Maid for Reconnaissance
by Sekana Katayama
Summary: Emil and Richter are asked to investigate a political sabotage by Sheena, whose ninjas would have been - believe it - too obvious in the setting of Meltokio's royal court. But no one would notice a cute face like... Emil's...? RichterEmil.
1. Chapter 1

You guys asked for it, and here it is: another RichterEmil. This one will be much lengthier (hooray!) and will actually have a semblance of a plot. Enjoy!

**Note: **Takes place in a slightly AU setting after the end of the game, so it might have scattered spoilers that I don't notice. I know that this won't make complete sense considering the actual ending, so just work with me here and pretend there was a nice little happy ending where everyone simply went back to living their lives instead of... what actually happened. Also, Marta will have no place in this, so if you'd like you can pretend she died or something. I don't care.

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**Ch.1**

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"I just can't handle this right now! It's been one thing after another since - I mean, I just need a break." Sheena sat down in one of the cushioned armchairs with a huff, ignoring the way Zelos was mimicking her frustrated gestures behind her back. It was his house, after all... he could do what he liked.

"What is it you think we can do that your ninjas can't?" Richter countered with his usual dose of cold logic, arms folded as he sat there as it confined. To be fair, there were several Igaguri ninjas blocking the double doors that served as the entrance and exit of Zelos's mansion.

"I don't know h-how much help I could be, but I'll give it a try." Emil interjected sheepishly, hoping to take the edge off of Richter's complaint by showing his own willingness to comply.

"Well, the thing is, we need someone to infiltrate the castle. And it can't be just anyone, it has to be someone no one would _suspect_. As much as I hate to admit it, my clan isn't so great at blending in." Sheena sighed, and shot a glare back over her shoulder at Zelos, who grinned but stopped his antics for the moment.

"So what you're saying is, this is a job for someone who lacks expertise for the very reason that they would be found out if they _did _know what they were doing." Richter affirmed with distaste, and concluded the obvious. "You believe we can blend in with the royal court?"

"No, no... not quite." Sheena sat up straighter in the armchair, putting on her serious face for once. "I want Emil, specifically, to be our insider at the castle. Your job, Richter, is to be his contact. You will meet him at regular intervals to deliver new information back to us."

"And how are we doing all this?" Richter glanced over at Emil for a moment before his frown settled on Sheena once more. "Disguises?"

"Yep!" She brightened a little at his unintentional attempt at interest. "But I can't tell you the details until you agree to do it. Can't have anyone not involved knowing about it, you know?"

"It's great, take my word for it." Zelos winked at them, now leaning against Sheena's armchair like her unofficial bodyguard. "I'm the safehouse in this little operation."

"Sounds like trouble already." Richter muttered, but met Emil's pleading gaze with a grudging acceptance of his defeat.

Their wordless exchange did not go unnoticed, and Zelos raised an elegant eyebrow before giving Sheena a knowing smirk that she didn't return.

"I-I'll do whatever I can." Emil said optimistically, smiling in direct contrast to Richter's narrowing eyes.

"Right. I guess that leaves me no choice but to go along with this." Richter agreed casually, frown still in place. "Now, what's the catch?"

"He's sharp..." Zelos murmured, impressed, and then proceeded to pretend he hadn't said anything as Sheena shot him a venomous glare.

"Well, I wouldn't call it a... a _catch_, really..." Sheena pasted a silly smile over her nervousness as she began to outline the plan. "The disguises might take some work to pull off, but I'm sure you guys can do it. I did choose you for a reason, after all."

"So, what are the disguises?" Emil asked enthusiastically, a little excited at the thought of participating in this kind of secret mission. He didn't catch Sheena's smile slip before she had it back in place.

"I guess it's time to show you, then!" She rose from the chair hesitantly, and gestured to Zelos. "Got the key?"

"You know it!" He dug into one of his pockets and pulled out a very ordinary key, which he handed dramatically to Sheena.

"Follow me."

They ended up in a secret closet somewhere in the vicinity of Zelos's basement, at which point Sheena lit a candle and pointed with artificial cheerfulness to the various outfits lying innocently on their hangers. The vast majority seemed to be cast-offs from Zelos's wardrobe - ensembles one would expect to see on a man of nobility who desired to make a good impression on the court. The others were identical copies of the same clothing, a uniform that must have belonged to the Tethe'allan cleaning staff.

"All right, here are yours," Sheena motioned to the vast array of suitable nobleman outfits, and waited for Richter to give his cautious nod, which he did.

"What about mine?" Emil asked curiously, not noticing when Richter's mouth dropped open uncharacteristically for a bare second before he collected himself.

"Uh... these are yours, Emil." Sheena pointed to the row of identical maid outfits without explanation.

Zelos was watching Richter's face with great interest as it seemed to be going through various stages of

emotion, all suppressed expertly but still vaguely visible beneath his calm facade.

"Um... these are... m-maid uniforms?" Emil confirmed incredulously, turning his adorably confused eyes to Richter's, which made Sheena let out a sigh of relief that she hadn't had them directed at her, which would have made more sense since the clothing had been her decision, not Richter's.

But, as it happened, Richter ended up being chosen as the sacrifice to Emil's puzzled expression, widened green eyes and slightly-open little mouth gradually becoming subdued until he was trying not to frown despite the obvious conclusion.

"I-I... I'm going to be a... a maid?" He asked tentatively, voice becoming a squeak near the end of the inquiry.

"Uh... yep! That's right." Sheena said with another grin pasted across her anxious features, avoiding Richter's cold gaze like the plague as she began to explain at last. "Emil, we figured it would be best to have someone pose as a... a maid... in the castle. It's a great way to get information, especially if you manage to listen in on the conversations the nobles are having. You haven't been seen very much at the castle before, so no one will recognize you."

"O-oh, okay." Emil nodded slowly, beginning to smile again as he understood his role better. "That sounds... um... good?"

Sheena kept up her artificial smile under the blizzard coming off of Richter, whose face was probably terrifying to look upon just now, judging by the waves of anger she could feel radiating from his form. "S-so, Richter, _you _get to be a nobleman - one of Zelos's cousins, supposedly - and go to the castle every couple days to check up on Emil."

"And just how am I supposed to do that?" Richter interrupted coldly, very affected by the position this plan would put Emil in. "Why would a nobleman be talking to a maid?"

"That's where the acting comes in!" Sheena laughed, but it was an awkward noise that didn't sound good in the small area they were trapped in for the time being. "Um, Z-Zelos, why don't you tell them about the _great _idea you had about that? Since you, uh, thought it up in the first place. Go on!"

Zelos, more amused than intimidated by Richter's vehement hatred of the plan so far, shrugged and stepped up to the plate with a cocky smirk that was much more natural than Sheena's previous attempts. "All right, so why _would _a nobleman be talking to a maid? Judging by my personal experience -" He gave Sheena a cheeky grin - "There's one reason that anyone who saw something like that would accept without question."

"What's that?" Emil asked quickly, finally becoming aware of Richter's impending wrath and trying to cut off his friend from any possible acts of violence.

"You guys basically have to look like you're having some sort of secret rendezvous." Zelos explained, as if this was something anyone would understand. "I've seen it loads of times - a maid pulled out of sight by a handsome guy who didn't need the court to know about his little adventures. I'd recommend the royal library or the armory for that, but you can always use a dark corner if you need to - just haveta be extra careful to make it look real."

"W-wait..." Emil tried to process what Zelos was telling them, and it all began to sink in at once. "So, R-Richter and I have to... p-pretend to be s-s... secret lovers?"

Richter was conspicuously silent, though Zelos was stifling the laughter that had bubbled to the surface when Emil's face suddenly changed to apprehension. Ah, the moment of recognition!

"It's not that bad," Sheena reassured him carefully, in actuality trying to appease Richter's anger more than comfort Emil, who was relatively harmless. "You two just have to meet secretly every couple days or so, and have that story ready if anyone finds you together."

"Yeah, it's not a big deal." Zelos was still grinning, however. "You just gotta be careful - if you think anyone's watching, you can't look like you're just talking... that'd be a dead giveaway."

"... All right." Richter spoke at last, in his usual, irritated voice. "When does this thing start?"

"As soon as possible," Sheena was finally back to business, now that the threat of Richter's wrath was passing. "You two can get used to your roles, and then it's onto the show."

"Will I really be able to.. to wear that?" Emil wondered aloud, and Sheena and Zelos nodded encouragingly, despite Richter's scowl.


	2. Chapter 2

Let the show begin...

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**Ch.2**

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Sheena and Zelos had let them alone in one of the upstairs bedrooms in order for the two of them to try on their disguises, as well as giving them time to discuss their assignment. For Emil, this meant two things: firstly, trying extra-hard not to annoy Richter due to this mission already getting to him, and secondly, figuring out how to properly put on the maid disguise. It was more complicated than it sounded.

"Staring at that thing isn't going to help, Emil." Richter told him, expression unreadable as he began discarding pieces of his own clothing and donning the unfamiliar clothes of a nobleman. Emil looked away after he caught sight of Richter shrugging off his shirt, and had to blink a few times to remember what he had been doing.

Oh. Right. Maid outfit.

"Do you need help?" Richter said this in the same way a normal person might ask if you were the one who had kidnapped their sister.

Emil jumped, turning around carefully to see that, yes, Richter was fully dressed. And he looked very nice in his stylish ensemble, which involved a lilac tunic with gold embroidery and edging along the sides, a white shirt with flowing sleeves underneath, and a pair of light breeches paired with a stunning pair of white and violet boots.

"Yes, I look ridiculous, but I wouldn't laugh if I were you." Richter threatened, advancing on Emil like a wyvern about to devour a minicoid as an appetizer. He grudgingly picked up the maid outfit and looked at it for a long moment, and then sighed.

"I-I don't know... how to p-put it on..." Emil ventured cautiously, and winced as Richter's gaze flickered to him, and then back to the dress.

"Fine." Richter grumbled, and took the various pieces of the outfit off the hangers to examine them and

come to a conclusion of how to best go about putting it on.

Emil pretended to look over the outfit too, but really he was too embarrassed by the situation to think at all, and only stood there feeling stupid for a few moments, wondering why he had actually asked Richter to help him _get dressed_. I mean, that was just weird...

Richter, meanwhile, had apparently decided he had studied the pieces long enough, and turned to Emil with the sarcastic inquiry of, "Do you need me to _undress _you as well, or can you do that part yourself?"

Emil flushed the color of Lloyd's stand-out clothing and realized he should have been undressing in preparation for the change of clothes. Richter was still eyeing him like he was seriously considering seizing him and doing it for him, so Emil hurriedly turned around and took off his scarf, letting it fall to the ground as he proceeded to discard his gloves and take off his boots.

He tried very hard not to think about Richter as he undid the belts on his tunic and wriggled out of it, and then tugged off his pants, grateful for the pair of shorts he had worn under them. Sheena _had_ warned him he might be changing clothes.

"All right, come here." Richter's voice came from behind him, and he turned, face still red, to stare in disbelief at a sight he had never even imagined.

Richter, looking as serious as always, was holding up a rather lacy bra and beckoning to Emil nonchalantly. "Apparently this thing is going to make you into a girl."

"Aha... ha..." Emil tried to laugh, but he was much to weirded out by being nearly naked in front of Richter, as well as watching Richter analyze the bra like it was some sort of alien technology. Which, of course, it was.

"Hmm. Lots of padding. Good." Richter mumbled, and nodded decisively. The next moment, he shot Emil an irritated look. "Didn't I tell you to get over here?"

"R-right!" Emil exclaimed hastily, and came as close to Richter as he dared.

"Okay, let's see..." Richter said under his breath, and leaned close to Emil as he slid the contraption onto Emil's chest, checking the length of the straps with a researcher's precision before he attempted to secure it in the back. Then, with a final few tugs to get it into place, Richter patted Emil's newest two accessories with some small satisfaction.

"W-whoa!" Emil looked down to see that it did look like he had some nicely proportioned little melons.

"Um... g-good job."

Richter ignored him, as he was already moving on to the next part of the costume, otherwise known vaguely as 'the stuff that goes under the dress' which consisted of a skirt that had an extraordinary amount of ruffles, giving it a lot of weight.

"Slip this on." Richter muttered, tossing the frilly skirt-thing at him and looking for the next piece.

Emil obeyed with utmost haste, as now he at least had something covering a little more of his lower body. A little more being the key phrase there. It only really came down to a couple inches above his knees, which was not at all what Emil called a comfortable amount of skin to show.

"And this." Richter threw the skirt at him, and Emil put it on over the frilly one, noting that this was probably the skirt that was supposed to show. The thing under it made it puff out something terrible, though, and Emil wasn't sure he'd be able to fit through doorways in it. Maybe that was the idea...?

In the next few minutes, Emil also slipped on two long, white gloves, a pair of long white socks - or whatever they were - that stopped a little above his knees and ended in frills, and shiny black shoes. They covered his legs for the most part, but they also felt very strange against his skin.

"Here we are." Richter held up the blouse that was one of the last items, and Emil automatically lifted his arms to help as his friend slid it onto him and began doing up the buttons.

Richter unconsciously leaned in close as he concentrated on buttoning the blouse, and Emil had to remind himself that breathing was a very important process that absolutely had to be continued. He closed his eyes like he would against pain, though all he felt was Richter's hands brushing against his skin every so often as he buttoned up the top.

"You all right?" Richter asked cautiously, with as little sympathy as ever, and took the last piece - the frilly apron - in his hands. "Last one."

Richter gently slipped the apron onto Emil, and tied it into a neat bow in the back, which Emil had no idea he was capable of doing. I mean, really, Richter doing a cute little bow? Impossible. But apparently it was so.

Richter, his work done, stood back and seemed to be surveying the complete picture for a moment, chin resting on a hand absently, before his frown deepened slightly. "It worked."

Emil wasn't entirely sure why this was a bad thing, since Richter was now in a much worse mood than before, even though his efforts had succeeded. "U-um, that's... good?"

"You look like a girl. That is _not _good." Richter growled, and folded his arms, a favorite position of his when he was feeling particularly irritated.

"B-but, I'm supposed to..." Emil protested weakly, drifting closer to Richter from some natural instinct that being closer to him would make him feel better. "Isn't it... b-better that it's w-working?"

Instead of being calmed by Emil's approach, Richter seemed to be, if anything, frightened. Emil was perplexed by this, as he must have looked even less intimidating than usual in his new outfit, and if anything he should have been completely harmless, but Richter seemed to consider him a threat to his health.

"Richter?" Emil said quietly, reaching out with a gloved hand as if to keep his friend from running away.

Richter shied away from the outstretched hand, and Emil might have caught a hint of red staining the other man's face as he turned and pretended to be highly interested in gazing out the window. That was when it occurred to Emil that Richter did not like seeing him in his maid disguise, for some reason he couldn't fathom. Therefore, Emil did what he thought was the best thing - follow the procedure that would get him out of the maid disguise as soon as possible.

"Should we sh-show Sheena, or c-can I get dressed?" He was desperately hoping for the latter, so that he could return to his own clothes as soon as possible. After all, it wasn't like he was any more comfortable with all the frills and ribbons than Richter was. _He _was the one who had to put up with wearing all of it, anyway.

It was at that fortunate moment that a knock came at the door, followed by Sheena's tentative inquiry of, "You guys done?"

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"Wow. Can't say I imagined it would work _that _well, but hey, who's complaining!" Zelos laughed good-naturedly, in ultimate contrast to the ice-berg that was Richter.

"I-is it really th-that good?" Emil ventured hopefully, aiming to please as was _his _nature, despite the unwelcome feeling in the pit of his stomach that told him this was a very, very bad idea.

"It'll do." Richter said darkly, as if declaring that Meltokio had just been infested with gigantic mutant sewer-rats whose sole purpose was devouring the city's residents.

It didn't take any of Sheena's ninja senses to point out to her that Richter was pissed. And she was pretty sure she knew why, though she wouldn't dare hint at it unless she wanted a quick decapitation. In fact, she wasn't all that keen on continuing the plan just now, though it seemed the disguises were definitely effective.

"What do we do now?" The blonde maid asked quietly, without any idea of just how angelic he appeared in the fluffy outfit.

Zelos stared at him for a moment before regaining his wits, and took over for Sheena after he noticed her hesitance to provoke the iceberg. "I guess you get to go secure your job at the castle. Regal will go with you - supposedly he recommended you for you great work ethic or something."

"And what do I do?" Richter asked in a monotone, pointedly not looking at Emil.

"You get to chill here for a while." Zelos said graciously, gesturing to his fine estate. "You won't get to visit the castle until tomorrow morning, so you can relax." As if Richter would take him up on that and suddenly smile like Colette. Which he did not.

The doorbell rang, and Sebastian opened the double doors to reveal Duke Bryant in all his formal glory.

"Good afternoon," Regal greeted each of them politely, and could not hold back a smile when he saw Emil's transformation. "I trust this means the plan is going through?"

"Yep, sure is!" Zelos's enthusiasm was almost contagious, and Emil felt a little better about the whole situation until he risked a glance at Richter.

The iceberg was made of frozen fury, and it didn't look as if he would be thawing anytime soon. The sight of his friend glaring icicles at the opposite wall really made Emil feel like dashing back into the other room and crying, though he hated to admit it even to himself. And he didn't want Richter to know how much his opinion meant, so Emil did his best to seem optimistic about the plan as he followed Regal to the door.

He couldn't stop himself from turning back at the threshold, in the hope that maybe Richter had gotten over whatever was bothering him, and maybe their eyes would meet and his friend would give him that rare half-smile that would help him through the first day of his espionage.

Richter was carefully avoiding his gaze, focusing on a vase of daffodils. Emil happened to know that he hated daffodils with a passion, so this really depressed him to know that his friend preferred to stare at a flower he loathed... than at Emil himself.

"R-Richter..." Emil held back a wince at how pathetic he sounded, but at least Richter pretended to look towards him. "I'll s-see you tomorrow."

"Take care." Richter told him without feeling, and returned his gaze to the daffodils.


	3. Chapter 3

I'm glad you guys like it! I assure you there will be more lulz ahead. Interestingly enough, this is my third (?) story involving Emil in a nightgown... strange how that happens.

**Note: **I've studied the castle in-game, and I know there's only a single room that the maids seem to live/sleep in, but I'm changing it for this story, so bear with me here. There is now an entire hall of rooms that the maids live in.

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**Ch.3**

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"Whew..." Emil closed the door to the servants' quarters behind him and leaned against it for a moment, even closing his eyes to give them a rest, too. He had never known just how much work it was to be a maid, nevermind the extra effort it had cost him to play his part convincingly. Although Regal _had _reassured him that no one would guess at his true gender, he still worried occasionally that something would give him away.

At least he had no trouble with speaking like a girl. If anything, people seemed to accept his stuttering, high pitched voice more readily when he looked like this. He probably should have been upset by this particular fact, but just now he had enough to worry about, and not having to change his voice was a load off his mind that he appreciated.

He wanted to see Richter suddenly. A sigh escaped him as he walked to his room - the fourth on the left, he had been told - and turned the knob wearily. It was a plain room, which only served to remind him of his aunt and uncle's home in Luin. Which in turn brought his mind back to Richter.

Emil pushed that topic away defiantly and locked his door, turning to note the meager furnishings of his new room. He didn't mind the state of it, really, as long as he would be able to sleep comfortably. Pretty much anything was better than sitting up all night in the wilderness wondering if that weird sound was a night raid about to pounce...

Apparently his mood wasn't going to improve so easily, so he gave up on thinking for the moment and took a few minutes to get out of his frilly maid outfit and into the sleeping-wear provided by the castle. It was a long nightgown of some sort, and he was grateful at least for its length, even though he wasn't going to be out and about for anyone to see it. He wasn't certain what he would have done if it had been some translucent robe thing like he had seen in Altamira's hotel. He knew that was what the Altamira hotel gave women because they had mistaken him for one some time ago.

Nightgown donned, Emil crawled under the covers of the sturdy old bed with an appreciative yawn. Things tended to look up when one was snugly tucked into a comfortable bed, after all. At least, he _was _feeling better... until an image from that afternoon sneaked back into his mind to haunt him.

_"Take care." Richter barely looked at him, eyes colder than a Flanoir blizzard, voicing what should have been a heartfelt farewell with less feeling than Regal speculating on next year's employee policy. Much less. _

For some reason, remembering how furious Richter had been when the disguise was finished sent Emil into a depressive spiral, and he almost wanted to start talking to himself, as if that would help. Or better yet, pretend to talk to Richter. But then he thought about it for a few moments, and the usual intimidated feeling hit him, and suddenly he had no idea what he would have said to Richter if he even had the chance.

Just what _was _Richter's problem, anyway? The plan was going well so far, but somehow Emil got the sense that Richter would have preferred for it to fail right at the beginning. He didn't think his friend could be that indifferent to Sheena's request, but it sure seemed like he would rather not waste his time with the mission. Maybe it was something to do with the maid outfit... he had looked almost scared at the creation of Amelia - the name Emil had since taken on - like he had a fear of maids or something.

But, of course, that was silly. Richter wouldn't have a fear of maids. He probably wasn't afraid of _anything_.

Emil settled for closing his eyes and letting sleep take him, hoping for tomorrow to bring better things, and maybe, if he was lucky, a less frightening Richter.

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"Rise and shine, angels!" The loud and rather obnoxious voice of the head maid was well audible through Emil's door, and probably throughout the rest of the rooms as well.

He leaped out of bed as soon as he realized where he was, and had to take a few deep breaths to calm himself. That's right. He was a maid. He had to get dressed and get to work!

With a determined smile in spite of his nervousness, Emil began hastily putting on the various pieces of his disguise, noting sheepishly that Richter had done a better job of it. But at least he managed to get everything on in record time, and it didn't look too shabby. In fact, he actually looked pretty well put-together.

This, at least, put a bounce in his step as he left his room, and he was pleasantly surprised when he remembered he wouldn't have to stifle his natural cheerfulness. He was in the habit of toning it down in the company of others, specifically Richter, who had espoused all the disadvantages of having a sunny view of life. Well, he wasn't listening to Richter today! He was going to be a happy, hard-working maid!

"Ah, Amelia, there you are!" The head maid, in all her ringleted glory, bounded over to him like an excited puppy, except without the excitement part. "Today's your shift in the kitchens, and after you've taken care of that, you're dusting the Armory."

And she left without so much as a confirmation from 'Amelia,' who stood there woodenly before pumping some more enthusiasm back into his waning smile. No worries! He was a man on a mission.

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As Emil scrubbed pots and pans, he reviewed the information Regal had given him about the mission. Sheena had only vaguely described it as a 'political scandal' that they were being assigned to investigate, so Regal's description of the details had been all the more enlightening. The information itself had been passed to him by way of a letter Regal kept on his person at all times, and he could still see in his mind's eye the neat, professional script that had filled him in on his mission objective.

Background: The King has disappeared. Where to, who with, and why are all unknown.

Objective: Discover the King's current location and status, investigate those involved, and come to a conclusion, if necessary, of the guilty party. Said party's motives shall also need investigation before an accusation can be forwarded.

All of this had been pretty surprising to Emil, who hadn't even heard anything besides that the King was on some sort of hokey vacation. Of course, if he had been on the lookout for anything fishy, he probably could have guessed that, since kings didn't usually take vacations, the King was indisposed for another, more sinister reason.

"Hey! New girl!"

Emil glanced back over his shoulder, elbows-high in soapy water, to see one of the other maids addressing him frantically. "Y-yes?"

She bit her lip nervously, looking around as if on guard against something, before making her request. "Can I take over for you? I, um, knocked over a vase in the Crimson Room... you understand, right?"

Oh. She wanted to look like she had been washing dishes all this time so she wouldn't be blamed for the vase! Well, it wasn't exactly an honest thing to do, but she looked really scared. Her wide eyes, added to the already humble appearance of her slender form and scattered freckles, convinced him that she deserved a break. Well, she _had _broken something... but that wasn't what he meant.

"O-okay!" He smiled and began to dry of his hands. "I'll... g-go dust the Armory."

"Thanks so much!" She beamed, and started scrubbing at a pot with great enthusiasm.

* * *

He was on his way to the Armory when he saw it, a sight so obvious that he would have completely missed had he not been looking for the signs. A group of three nobles, an odd number to be seen normally, all talking furtively on the balcony and sharing cautious glances while every so often sending suspicious looks towards passerby. Their conversations quieted whenever another noble passed by, and then revived once all threats were out of earshot.

Emil masked his excitement at the prospect of overhearing some useful information, and set about dusting the grandfather clock that stood only a few feet away from the balcony. It was partially hidden behind a corner, so he was not too noticeable, but just the same he heard the group silence themselves at his arrival. He ignored them, and dutifully began to dust off the face of the clock with his feather-duster. The action forced him onto tiptoes, and he had the feeling he looked really ridiculous.

A heart-stopping moment later, the voices rose again, and the conspicuous nobles were partially audible from his location. He continued to dust around the old clock as he strained to hear their conversation.

"But I... King... gone now?" He only managed to get scraps of the sentence, but it was enough to fill in the gaps. They were definitely involved in the King's suspicious absence!

As the feather-duster slowed, he had to remind himself to look like he was working, and he redoubled his efforts to dust the small statue opposite the clock.

"Yes, but... Triana said... still al... not time." Still alive? So the King was actually in danger? This was more important than he had thought! What did 'not time' mean?

"Not time!" There it was again... "How much... think... ave?" So the people involved were getting impatient? There had to be a lot of risk to the operation, then.

"Shh!" Aw, darn, this guy was sharper than the others, and talked much quieter. "... plan... remem... plan... be caref... spies... where... could be."

Oops. So this guy already suspected there would be spies around? That wasn't good! Emil also realized, at that moment, that he had finished dusting the statue, and now had no good reason to be standing so close to the balcony. What to do! He panicked for a moment and then made his escape, bustling off with artificial cheerfulness plastered across his face.

Oh! The Armory! That was where he had to go next.

Unfortunately, Emil never reached the Armory, because as soon as he passed the oaken door to the Royal Library, a very solid shape turned the corner and seized him roughly, and then proceeded to drag him into said library.

* * *

"R-Richter...!" He exclaimed, surprise being the first emotion to show, and then hesitation as he noted the look on his friend's face, which was much the same as it had been the day before. "N-nice... to see you."

Richter only beckoned silently and lead him to a corner of the library obscured from the entrance by one of the bookcases.

"Oh, r-right. Good idea." Emil agreed hastily.

And then Richter cornered him with a hand to each side of him on the bookcase, serious expression sending a bucket of ice water down his back. What was he doing?

"All right, any information?" The redhead asked quietly, not removing his gaze from where it pierced

disturbingly into Emil's eyes

"Oh! Y-yes." Emil relaxed a little as it became clear that Richter was taking the mission seriously, albeit a little _too _seriously. Or maybe he was still in a bad mood.

"Are you going to tell me or not?" Richter inquired, full of sarcasm at the long silence that had followed Emil's admission.

"Well, I-I..." But Emil couldn't focus on recalling the details when Richter was looming close to him like that, making him feel like a bird caught in a cage. "I-I can't think wh-when you do that!"

"Do what?" Richter asked coldly, not amused at the distraction from their purpose.

"S-stop being s-scary...!" Emil blurted out, and then flushed as he heard the exclamation echo through his head. What a stupid thing to say! It wasn't like Richter cared what he thought, anyway.

"What?" Richter looked, if anything, perplexed by the label, and his cold front began to thaw slightly with the onset of his confusion.

"W-well, you're t-trapping me here, a-and..." Emil felt his face grow hotter by several degrees as he acknowledged how uncomfortable the position was, but he stopped mid-sentence when Richter straightened up and withdrew his barrier-like arms.

"_He_ told me that would look convincing." Richter muttered darkly, and then seemed to notice Emil watching him with a mixture of relief and apprehension. "Well, we need some other way now."

"Another w-way? For what?" Emil grew quieter at the cue from Richter, which was something like a slight narrowing of the eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"We have to pretend, Emil!" Richter whispered harshly, if such a thing was possible, and it was. "If someone with knowledge of the situation with king walks in and sees us exchanging information, it's all over."

"O-oh, right!" Emil thought back to Zelos's explanation of their cover story - the secret lovers who regularly met in secluded areas of the castle due to the difference in their stations. "B-but... how do we... do th-that?"

"_I _had it all figured out, but since you didn't like it, we're going to have to improvise." Richter growled, folding his arms in a standoffish way that suggested he would rather not put much thought into this next part.

"Um... r-right..." Emil tried valiantly to recall any couples he had witnessed, and came up with a relatively fail-proof position for the two of them to assume while talking. "Okay, how about th-this?"

He tentatively reached out to lace his hands around the back of Richter's neck, an action that drew him closer than he had intended due to their height difference. Then he felt Richter freeze as their bodies touched, and didn't dare glance up to see what kind of horrific expression was on his friend's face.

"I don't like this." Richter muttered in a way that reminded him of a mantra, but seemed to grudgingly trust Emil's instincts. "What do I do?"

"U-um, put your hands on m-my waist...?" Coming from Emil, it sounded more like a humble request, but Richter followed his instructions and placed firm hands on the maid's tiny waist.

It felt very strange. Emil's face grew hot as Richter moved forward slightly so his victim's back was to the bookcase, as before, his hands oddly warm where they encircled his waist. They were very close, even more so when Richter leaned in, gaze flickering to the doorway cautiously before he spoke.

"This will be fine. Now, information." He seemed to have digressed to a shorthand form of speaking, though his burning eyes made up for all the expression his words left to the imagination. It was safe to say that Richter was not thrilled with this position.

"W-well, I heard three nobles..." Emil began, and related all that he could remember of the short talk he had been able to overhear. It wasn't a huge find, but he managed to describe all three suspicious characters with relative success.

"It's a start." Richter said blandly. It was something one would expect someone would use as reassurance, but from his friend it was only an automatic answer, and with the added sigh it became even less of a comfort.

Richter withdrew his hands, intent on leaving now that his work was done, and then attempted to none-too-gently remove Emil's gloved hands from his shoulders. With a last huff of exasperation, the redhead turned to leave, but Emil was having none of that.

"R-Richter!" He felt an odd sense of deja vu, but figured it came from the many times he had called out to his friend in varying degrees of distress. "Wait."

Richter halted, seemed to ponder his options for a moment, and then turned around to give Emil his trademark expression that lacked all humor. "What is it?"

"Wh-why are you so angry?" The blonde asked without thinking, approaching Richter despite the icy eyes that seemed to be willing him to stay away.

"I'm not angry, Emil." Richter snapped, in complete opposition to his denial.

Emil could see that the redhead was bothered by something, and the anger seemed to intensify the closer he came. "Y-you don't... l-like maids, do you?"

"What?" Richter growled, eyes settling, with some amount of contained distress, on Emil's form moving close to his. "What are you talking about?"

"E-ever since I put th-this on, you've been..." Emil trailed off, uncertain which word to choose in this case, since he didn't want to offend Richter with the wrong one, or mislabel what he was seeing.

"Maybe I don't approve of this plan." Richter interjected with abrupt frustration, and turned on his heel to leave Emil alone to his thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

The show must go on! In other news, I seem to have accidentally created an OC. Forgive me - she won't have a major role, so it should hardly matter.

Also, if anyone should notice the brief digression into a vaguely Seuss style... please forgive me for that, too. I simply couldn't resist.

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**Ch.4**

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The next morning brought Emil news that was both good and bad. The good thing was that he had been assigned half of the castle's floors to scrub, so he would have plenty of opportunity to be inconspicuous

around various groups of chatting nobles. The downside to this was, of course, the raw, reddening hands that he was already experiencing. They would probably start to sting soon, considering the soapy water he was using with the rags. And there was that creaking in his knees whenever he stood up, making him feel like an elder before his time.

For a somewhat-esteemed warrior, Emil sure didn't feel like his body was adjusting well to menial labor.

_'I guess skill in battle doesn't have much to do with anything else,' _He contemplated wistfully, and a voice in his head that sounded a lot like Zelos added, _'Except maybe in bed.'_

He shook his head frantically to rid himself of the weird thoughts that had suddenly streamed through his mind at the provocation. What had Zelos been doing in his head anyway? And why had that insignificant comment made him immediately think of Richter? Well, he supposed it had to do with Richter being particularly skilled in battle, so if the Zelos voice was right, it would make sense that -

"I don't even know what I'm thinking anymore!" Emil sighed, and sat back on his heels to dip the rag back into the bucket of soap and water.

He very pointedly passed by the various images in his head without looking, face probably already pink. He couldn't be thinking about things like that while in plain view! Especially since there were nobles everywhere, and he had to look like he was working dedicatedly at all times, or risk being reported to the ringlet-haired girl who supervised all the maids. Not that he could think those things when he was alone, either...

Thankfully, Emil was distracted from his oh so troubling thoughts a moment later, by the same noblewoman and two noblemen from the day before, who had just walked by him as if he was a rug on the floor. He impressed their appearances into his memory again, to make sure he would be able to describe them better this time, and wondered how he could move closer to hear their conversation today. He was almost done with this section of the castle - which ran from the balcony to the opposite wall on the other side of the library - and didn't really have an excuse to follow them.

But follow he did, furtively, with cleaning supplies in hand, trying very hard not to look suspicious. He only received one odd look as he tailed the three suspects, and that was from some noblewoman's cat, who probably always looked like that anyway. The cat, which was forcibly restrained in the woman's arms, did not look happy. Poor cat.

The nobles ended their hasty journey at the Royal Library, which made Emil even more suspicious of their motives, since he and Richter had used the place just yesterday for the exchanging of secret information. But how could he follow them in there? The shelves had already been dusted last evening - he had checked - by the freckled girl he had met yesterday.

Maybe he could listen at the door? It would be really obvious, though, to anyone who was outside the Library. Emil glanced around and noted, with considerable exhilaration, that there were very few nobles in sight, and all of them seemed to be moving towards the Royal Court, where Princess Hilda was probably holding some sort of tea party. The princess _was _known for her extravagant tea parties, after all.

Well, that decided it! Emil placed his ear to the door and concentrated fully on distinguishing the sounds inside from the sounds outside the Library, and began to succeed. Bits and pieces of phrases became gradually easier to make out, since the nobles weren't bothering to keep their voices down now that they thought they were in a safer place, where they could speak freely.

"Soon they... king... everything done." The female voice said triumphantly, and there was a haughty snort from one of the men.

"Right, as... would... easy. They won't... heart... ill him." Sarcasm was clear in the man's voice as he replied.

"For the... mount... money, _anything_... complished." Interjected the second man shrewdly. "It's only... atter... time."

Emil found his heart was beating faster at the realization that these were really the criminals he was listening to. The woman seemed to be implying that the king was confined somewhere, or that someone had him under control, while the first man didn't seem to think the people involved in the actual king-napping business - if that was what it was - were doing it right. The third guy, on the other hand, was much more smug-sounding about the whole thing, and the last thing he said had to be 'it's only a matter of time.' If that was true...

Emil jumped, startled, as he heard the talking stop, and footsteps fill the emptiness. He dashed away to the lower level, where the maids' rooms were, and ducked inside, chest heaving with short breaths as he

tried to slow his racing heart. They had almost discovered him. If they knew he was a spy, would they have him killed by someone? The thought was sobering. He hadn't truly considered that this mission would be dangerous.

"Amelia, what are you doing there?" The freckled girl was exiting her room, and gave him a sympathetic look despite the fact that she probably needed to use the door he was leaning against.

"U-um, I-I was taking a break." He explained nervously, and then lied smoothly, "W-well, actually, I... I there was this nobleman... I think he likes me." And his resulting blush, from saying the false words, must have been really convincing.

In spite of her previous will to leave the maids' quarters and continue working, Freckles - he had no idea what she had said her name was, so he was naming her Freckles in his mind - seemed content to stay there with him and hear the rest of the story. This put him in an awkward position since he was making it all up as he went, but his hesitation passed itself off as embarrassment paired with a schoolgirl crush. The blush helped.

"Th-there was this n-nobleman, a-and I looked up when I was cleaning a-and he smiled at me..." Emil began unsteadily, not sure how to describe having any sort of romantic encounter, however meager. "And th-then he said, um... 'Do you have a map?' and I didn't know what he w-was talking about."

Freckles clapped hands to her mouth, stunned at the implications of Emil's words thus far.

"I s-said something like 'what?' and h-he said, 'Because I think I just got lost in your eyes.'" Emil then tried a girlish giggle, but it sounded a little discordant. All the same, Freckles was practically bouncing in place from the delicious gossip.

"What did he look like?" She insisted gleefully, no doubt wanting a picture in mind of the probably gorgeous young aristocrat. "Go on!"

"Um, h-he was..." Emil struggled for a moment, and then latched onto a stray picture of Richter that had been floating around in his mind for quite some time, though he couldn't restrain his blush at the fact that Richter was shirtless in said picture. "Tall...?"

At the roll of Freckles's eyes, he kept going with renewed determination. "Um, and he had long, reddish hair, and th-these piercing green eyes, and he wore g-glasses, but somehow... they looked really good on him." Emil barely noticed as he became more comfortable with the description, and got a little carried away with himself. "A-and when he looked at me, it was l-like I was the only person... in the whole world."

"Wow..." Freckles was quite impressed with his thoughtful explanation, and seemed to be establishing a mental image to keep in mind, in case she came across him at some point. "He sounds _gorgeous_."

Emil's face grew very hot, and he hoped Richter never heard about what he was about to say. "Y-yes, I think I... I r-really... like him."

"Oooh... so it was like love at first sight!" Freckles seemed immersed in the idea as she seized Emil's hands and did some sort of victory dance. "This is great, Amelia! You should go for it!"

Emil, preoccupied with the weird dance he was having to mirror, barely understood what she was talking about. "What? H-how would I do that?"

"Well..." Freckles drew out the word, stretched it so she had time to think up the grand list that would follow. "You have to look nice for him. That's pretty easy since we have these cute uniforms! They'd make any man fall over himself, if you're pretty enough. Which you _definitely _are! It's a good thing he's not shy, 'cause the shy ones tend to run away when you're _that _adorable."

"Huh? I'm... c-cute?" Emil voiced this question in the same way he would ask, 'Katz are planning to take over the world?'

"Of course you are!" Freckles fixed him with a pitying expression, and gave him a comforting pat on the shoulder. "I guess you don't know it, though. But trust me, you _are_."

And then, belatedly, one of her lines caught up with him, and something cold pooled in his stomach abruptly. "W-wait, why did you say... the sh-shy ones run away?"

She looked a little perplexed by his choice of question, but shrugged and answered all-knowingly. "Well, you know, the kind of guy who doesn't want to admit he likes you? Usually those types take one look at an adorable face like yours, added to that cute uniform, and run for the hills. I think it's because they're caught between denying they like you, and wanting to do _naughty _things to you in a broom closet. Because of the uniform, I think."

The bluntness with which Freckles delivered this diagnosis left Emil speechless for a moment, a moment in which the full implications of her words hit him: Richter liked maid uniforms. He liked them a _lot_. Unlike what Emil had thought before- that he did _not_. And this meant one thing, from what Emil had heard... He'd better make sure not to end up in a broom cupboard.


	5. Chapter 5

Wow! I'm glad everyone's enjoying this. I made this chapter an especially good one to thank you guys. In other news, I had to fully use my imagination for that last part. Took forever...

**Question: **What flavor of gel would you say is the most delicious? You don't have to say 'apple' just because you read a certain other fanfiction, by the way. I want _your _take! And just what _does _miracle gel taste like, anyway?

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**Ch.5**

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Freckles was not finished with her advice, despite Emil's sudden urge to shut himself up in his tiny room and rethink his life. In fact, his rather excitable new friend didn't even notice his stunned demeanor, nor the way his hands had started to shake slightly, as if he was about to give a public announcement and had forgotten what said announcement was about. No, Freckles only knew that Emil was - by his own admission - in love with a mysterious, gorgeous nobleman, and her only thought was to instruct him on everything he'd need to know regarding such things.

"... And I read somewhere that guys like him are attracted to shy girls, so you're all set with that one. Although there _is _a lot to be said for a well-placed smile now and then. You don't want him to think you're not interested, after all!" She chirped, continuing, since about a half hour ago, on her tangential display of romantic knowledge.

Emil just kept nodding and attempted to keep his smile from slipping, despite the thoughts that were even now running through his head, keeping him from absorbing anything she was saying.

_'Does this mean... Richter likes me? But that can't be right... if anything, he _dis_likes me. I mean, you don't act like that when you like someone. Then again, I guess I wouldn't know. Maybe that's why Sheena is always hitting Zelos? I wonder if it _is _like that, and I just didn't know all this time...?'_

"... an emerald green would be a little too strong for you - I think it'd overpower your delicate skin tone, so you'd be better off with a lighter color, more of a mint green. Hey! That's what our uniforms are, so that's very convenient..."

_'But what would it mean if he _did _like me?' _Emil's stomach gave an odd twinge as the thought passed lazily through his mind, stopping his train of thought for a moment. _'Don't people... who like someone... do things like hugging? And, um... kissing? But I can't imagine doing something like that, nevermind with _him_, I mean, not that he likes me, because I'm sure he doesn't. But if he did, wouldn't it be weird...?'_

Images began to creep into his mind, like Mizuho ninjas, hidden until it was too late for him to counter their destructive force. They materialized suddenly out of the smoke and wasted no time in delivering him a swift blow to the stomach, stealing the air from his lungs.

... At least, that was what it felt like as, by no fault of his own, he began to imagine a situation so foreign, so difficult to picture to his naive mind, that he lost all track of everything as it played out in his head like a vivid dream.

Richter stood before him, much too close for this to be reality, and leaned in closer, in much the same way he had in the Library, an action then made excusable by its purpose - to hear the whispers Emil was limited to. But now there was no explanation for it, and Emil felt his heart beating fast in his chest as Richter's face grew larger in his vision, until he closed his eyes out of sheer embarrassment. He didn't feel the kiss that followed, but saw it from the perspective of a third person, not being able to picture it from the darkness behind his eyes. But it was enough.

"... Oh! Are you okay, Amelia? I'm sorry, I might have lost it a little, I got so excited." Freckles simultaneously sympathized and apologized to Emil, who realized he had closed his eyes for a moment when he lost himself in the vision he really shouldn't have let overtake him.

"Um, I-I'm all right. I just n-need to lay down for minute." Emil excused himself hastily, face hot enough to cook an omelet or two, and made his way down the hallway to his room.

He closed the door behind him and latched it, breathing a sigh of something that wasn't quite relief. Not just yet, when he still had so much on his mind.

_'What's wrong with me?' _He wondered as he slumped onto the small cot, still fully dressed in the problematic maid uniform that seemed to him the root of the situation. _'When I started thinking about it, I almost couldn't help seeing what it would be like, and then... it was weird.'_

The images started up again and he banged his head repeatedly on his pillow to beat them off. When they at last left him alone, he only felt more helpless. _'If I stay like this, what'll I do when I have to talk to Richter? Now I know why he didn't wanna do this... he probably knows something I don't, like what Freckles was saying... wait, maybe seeing me like this makes him think I'm a girl!'_

Emil jumped up at the sudden realization, and with growing confidence concluded the most logical reason for Richter's recent behavior - Emil made a very cute girl. So cute, even Richter couldn't ignore her. So he must have decided, since he knew Emil wasn't a real girl, that he had to be as mean to her as possible to keep himself from getting carried away. That had to be it!

He found himself positively beaming in the general direction of his pillow, though the pillow really had nothing to do with the matter.

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Emil left the maid quarters without any other interruptions - namely of the freckled variety - and headed for the Armory, since he hadn't managed to dust there the day before, and figured he should at least keep up with his chores. It was getting later in the day, thanks to the lengthy one-sided conversation with Freckles and then his preoccupation with his own thoughts, but there were still a few hours before supper, and that was plenty for dusting one room. And for meeting with Richter, since that probably wouldn't take very long.

He was feeling so carefree due to his recent discovery of Richter's 'true' problem that nothing, not even the gravity of the situation with the king, could bring him down to Earth. He fairly floated across the shiny palace floors, not the slightest bit bothered by the still-tender hands caused by said floors. He was nearing the Armory when he saw Richter, clad in that same nobleman's ensemble, walking in his general direction, and trying very hard not to look like he was looking for Emil.

Emil nearly waved to him in his cheerful stupor, but remembered just in time that they had to pretend to be meeting in secret, so he only smiled like he would at any other noble who happened to glance towards him. As Richter approached, his eyes darted to the Armory door, and Emil somehow managed to correctly interpret the subtle gesture to mean 'there.' And since Emil had been going to the Armory anyway, he continued with his previous plans and entered the Armory with every intention of dusting while he discussed the mission with Richter.

But there was a problem. All the palace guards were currently gathered in the Armory, having some sort of festive gathering that revolved around ale, or some such stuff that Emil didn't like the smell of. He hastily backed out of the doorway with a faint, 'I'll come back l-later.'

And he turned around to catch a brief glimpse of Richter before they barely avoided slamming into each other, and instead traded confused looks before Emil explained the situation with the Armory. Richter then wasted no time in taking his wrist and dragging him to the nearest, least conspicuous door, and pushing him through it ahead of him.

It was only until after Richter had shut the door that Emil realized two very important details about the seemingly random room selection Richter had made. One, it was very dark. Two, it was very small. In fact, it was only about the size of a broom closet.

Richter managed, somehow - magic, no doubt - to light a candle, and placed it on a higher shelf in the small area. It was... a broom closet. Emil had to forcefully remind himself that Richter only liked the maid uniform because Emil looked like a girl, and therefore he was in no danger whatsoever. But it was still difficult to concentrate on the topic at hand, which Richter was already asking him about.

"You have more information?" Richter, as always, got straight to the point without so much as a customary greeting. He hadn't even asked how Emil was doing with the whole daily crossdressing challenge.

"Y-yes! Just this morning I s-saw the same nobles..." And Emil related what he had overheard, explaining his own interpretation of the words as a helpful addition.

When he had finished, Richter gave him a pensive look, and said, "If you're sure these are the people to investigate, we might get out of this soon."

"Y-yeah, isn't that good?" Emil laughed a little, cheerful mood still lingering a little despite being trapped - well, not really - in a broom closet with Richter.

But Richter never acknowledged Emil's attempt at lightening the mood, because at that moment his alertness drew his gaze to the door, and the next moment was a blur of movement that ended with the two of them in a familiar position. Emil found himself grasping the front of Richter's lavender tunic, Richter's hands firmly on the Emil's waist as he leaned closer, lips moving to his 'lover's' ear to whisper sweet nothings, starting with...

"Just pretend you like this."

Emil felt his face burn right as the door flew open, showcasing a very suave-looking nobleman, a maid floating behind him wearing a dazed smile. Richter did a fair job of appearing startled by the intrusion as he turned, drawing Emil into his arms protectively, to survey the intruders themselves, who were now looking abashed. At least, the maid was.

"Well, well, this one's already taken." The man flashed a glinting smile that seemed cheesy even to Emil's oblivious eyes, and gestured casually to the maid accompanying him. "Let's find another closet, sweetheart." At least the guy shut the door as he left, and Emil was able to let out the horrified tension that had filled him at the experience of being discovered in a position like that... albeit, a position invented for the sole purpose of being seen as such.

He didn't really notice as he sank back into Richter's arms, relieved that the acting was done with, at least for now. But he did notice when Richter, who had apparently been lost in thought for a moment, finally realized that there was no one to see them now, and wasted no time in releasing Emil from the embrace.

An awkward silence settled over them both, and left Emil to fill it with something nonsensical. "D-do you think, um, they could be like us?"

"What?" This was the second time in two days that Richter was caught off guard, expressing complete surprise at the oddball comment. "What are you even talking about?"

"S-spies, like us." Emil pointed out with a tentative smile, knowing that it wasn't likely the other couple was fake, but wanting to say something to break the silence nonetheless.

Unfortunately, his attempt at conversation only made Richter roll his eyes. "Of course not. If they were spies, why did the maid have marks all over her neck?"

"Wh-what?" Emil hadn't even noticed, in his panic during the short exchange, that the maid had anything odd on her neck. "What kind of marks?"

"Emil, I know you can't possibly be ser-" Richter cut himself off at the questioning look Emil was giving him, wide green eyes knowing so very little about the world.

"What are you l-looking at me like th-that for?" Emil exclaimed, humiliation growing just as the blush on his face surely did. He didn't know why Richter seemed so surprised, but he had a feeling it had to do with something he didn't know, so it was definitely a result of his own ignorance.

"Emil..." Richter said his name hesitantly, and yet he seemed to be holding back a smile, which made Emil wonder if he hadn't caught onto something funny. "Those were kiss marks."

"On her neck?" Emil tilted his head to one side in his confusion, a habit he had learned somehow. "Why do you th-think that?"

"Because that's where they were, obviously." Richter still seemed to be restraining his amusement to his eyes, but the corners of his lips were turning upwards despite his effort. "It's how things are done, Emil."

"Wait..." Emil processed what he had just been told with a dawning realization of great importance. "If she had those, shouldn't I?"

He was unfortunate not to see Richter's indescribable expression at this.

"I mean, w-we're supposed to pretend to be like them, so wouldn't it be important, if that's 'how things are done' like y-you said?" Emil was even now trying to think of a way to get said marks onto his neck, contemplating various instruments with varying degrees of success.

"You... have a point." Richter admitted slowly, deep in thought to the point that they had mirrored each other, though Richter's thoughts had nothing to do with Emil's. "Are you... all right with this?"

"With what?" Emil asked automatically, having been considering whether a stiff hairbrush or perhaps a rough rag could be used to 'make' convincing kiss marks. "Oh! The marks? I-It's fine. I don't mind."

Richter hesitated, and then placed a cautionary hand on Emil's shoulder. "We might as well do it now, if you think it's important."

"Now?" Emil echoed, and then reminded himself to stop being silly. Richter probably already had a good idea of what to use to make the marks, so why had he even bothered ransacking his brain for ideas? "W-well, okay!"

There was a very palpable feeling of awkwardness just then, as neither of them said anything, before Emil bit his lip and addressed the ground with abrupt apprehension.

"W-will it... hurt?" And then he turned his troubled gaze on Richter, who looked away abashedly for a moment before regaining his composure.

"Well, to some degree..." And the half-elf's gorgeous green eyes flitted from one place to another, as if in embarrassment, before they settled on Emil's. "But... I'll do what I can."

"Th-that's okay, then." Emil felt a little better knowing that Richter had some sort of plan in place, and thus would not let it hurt _too _much.

And then Richter slowly approached him, not having very far to go in the small closet, and reached out to grasp his shoulders gently. "Are you sure?"

Emil nodded hastily. He wasn't certain why this was such a big deal to Richter, except maybe his friend didn't want to hurt him with whatever object he'd settled on using. It was probably in this closet, come to think of it, since he had said he was going to do it right now, and...

Conflicted emerald eyes settled on his with a seriousness that made something twist around in his stomach. Before he could ask what the look was for, Richter leaned in, and his warm breath on Emil's neck gave him the only warning he could understand. Emil froze as he noted, in an instant, Richter's hands carefully placed on his shoulders, the sigh against his neck as the half-elf hesitated... it was all too clear. And for some reason, his heart was beating so fast it almost hurt, as if it could bruise the walls of his chest.

When Richter's mouth met his neck tentatively, his own dropped open without a sound, astonished at the warmth pooling in his stomach like molten metal just as burning lips trailed across his skin slowly.

"A... ah! R-Rich... ter...?" He couldn't control how his body began to tremble as Richter kneaded the place on his neck with his warm lips, and he found himself biting down, hard, on his bottom lip to not let out any more embarrassing sounds. His hands, needing something to hold onto, came to grasp the front of Richter's tunic, unwittingly drawing him closer.

Richter continued planting kisses down his neck before lingering at a sensitive spot and sucking lightly on it, causing another wave of liquid fire to rush down to Emil's stomach. The warmth at his neck grew until every touch inspired a similar burning on his face, which had outdone itself this time, judging by the sensation that he was getting a bad sunburn. And then, as abruptly as it had started, it stopped, and Richter pulled away with a barely-noticeable flush conquering his carefully-schooled expression.

"... Looks convincing enough." Richter muttered, a hint of guilt in his voice.

Emil felt dizzy, body not accepting that the action had finished, insisting, with repeated twinges, that the pleasurable sensations were still in motion. He didn't want to try his voice just then, so he instead felt his neck gingerly, wincing at the raw skin there.

"Are you all right?" Richter asked, in response to his obvious discomfort, and it was the first time he sounded sincere with the question.

"Y-yeah." Emil managed, and withdrew his raw hand from his raw neck. What a day.

"Your lip is bleeding." Richter noted belatedly, shame creeping into his eyes. "Did I... did it hurt that much?"

"Um, n-no! That was... it's..." Emil almost bit his lip to keep himself from saying anything stupid, but then he remembered the problem itself. "I-it's fine!"

Richter withdrew a silken handkerchief from a pocket inside his tunic and handed it to Emil without a word.

"Th-thanks." Emil said, as gratefully as he could, but he felt a sense of imminent doom as he thought, secretly, that he would have preferred Richter to kiss it better.


	6. Chapter 6

Hello there! I just got back from Otakon, and I'm ready to keep writing! Huzzah.

Thanks for your comments on the gel question! Honestly, I had no real purpose in asking about that, but it was fun hearing your thoughts. Maybe it'll spawn a lonely one-shot in the future.

Hmmm... miracle gels taste like Richter? Mmmm. What a lovely thought, hehe.

I randomly noticed that I tend to write my characters as having very 'interesting' dreams about their love interests. I can't help but wonder if that's unrealistic, as I never seem to have any of those myself. Hmmph. I feel gipped.

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**Ch.6**

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"Wow, are you all right?" Freckles's voice shook Emil from his stupor as he reentered the hallway that housed the castle maids.

"U-um, yes." He nodded hastily, trying to dispel the lingering blush he could still feel on his cheeks. He tried to brush past her in a way that didn't seem rude, but she caught his wrist before he could escape.

"Amelia..." She began, eyes lighting up with dawning recognition of just what was 'troubling' him. "You ran into the nobleman again?"

"Y-yes." Emil answered, surprised that she had somehow guessed he had met Richter. How had she...?

"You have marks on your neck." She beamed, and then dissolved into giggles. "I guess you... ahaha... didn't... hehe... need much help... wahaha... from me."

Emil's blush came back full-force with the mention of the kiss marks, and he only managed a rushed, "W-well I guess s-so."

"How was it?" Freckles seemed intensely interested at this point, even clapping her hands together excitedly. "Did you go all the way already?"

"What!?" Emil felt a rush of humiliating heat spread over his entire face. "A-all the w-way!?" He was not going to let _those _thoughts into his head, oh no! Why did she have to give him all this unwanted encouragement?

"I guess you didn't, then." She laughed, and then gave him a knowing look. "But I bet you wanted to."

"O-of course n-n-not!" He stuttered, not even recalling that this was some imaginary nobleman he was referencing. No, the mysterious nobleman had since become Richter, and what Freckles hinted at evolved into the most embarrassing images about him and his friend.

"Well, I see you at least got somewhere, if those marks are anything to go on." Freckles pouted at the way he seemed to be resisting, in her view, his best course of action, but then brightened visibly. "Is he a good kisser?"

Emil colored, or it should be said, re-colored. "W-well, y-yes." And he tried _very _hard not to think about kissing Richter, and definitely did not contemplate said action for longer than a half-second before pushing it to the back of his mind. Definitely not.

Richter was probably an amazing kisser. Oh, for Martel's sake! He banished the rest of the thoughts hastily.

"I-I have to go, um, to sleep." Emil tripped over the words, he was so anxious to get away from Freckles's unknowingly-provocative inquisition. And without a look back at her no-doubt disappointed face, he hastened to his small room.

* * *

The next day was a blur for Emil, whose mind insisted on randomly throwing persuasive images at him during his usually boring and thoughtless hours of menial labor. Now, every free moment was a chance for his subconscious desires to pounce, leaving him helpless in the face of its onslaught of Richter-ness. That's right - his mind was utilizing all of its resources, from its familiar knowledge of Richter's appearance to obscure memories like that one time they were on their way to Flanoir and had lost the blankets and had to sleep huddled together for warmth... Or maybe that one hadn't actually happened? His mind was exceptionally good at making things up when it chose to.

Despite all the mental interruptions, Emil managed to get through the day without any real mishaps until supper. Supper was stew in the maid quarters that evening, and he dropped his spoon a total of eleven times - Freckles counted - before the ringlet-haired head-maid snapped at him to 'get with it or get out.' After that he had concentrated with all his might on the simple task of eating stew, and had successfully finished his meal.

After supper, and still concentrating on serious business, he stood idly near the balcony where he had first seen the three villainous nobles, wondering if it was too much to hope he would overhear them one more time, if they even had more to say that would be useful to Sheena. If only they had been careless enough to mention a location, or the full name of that lady, Triana. At least, he thought that was what they had called her.

Emil sighed. There were so many uncertainties, and it didn't look as if the mission would be over with very soon, unless, like Richter - no, no more pictures! - had mentioned, the Mizuho ninjas could find out more with the scant descriptions Emil had passed on to them. But somehow, even Emil could sense that there was more to this plot than met the eye. For one thing, no one even knew why nobles would have the king kidnapped, if indeed it was the nobles' doing in the first place. So many questions, so very few answers as of yet.

He hadn't noticed, up until that idle moment, that there was a couple standing together on the balcony, whose quiet voices were barely audible from where he now stood by the grandfather clock he had pretended to dust the other day. For some reason he felt his gaze drawn to the two, that same, brusque nobleman who had intruded on him and Richter the other day, and a maid. But not the same maid Emil had seen him with the last time. Did the man run around trying to seduce as many as possible?

Emil thought the man's actions were pretty low, but nevertheless he found himself watching as the man leaned in towards the maid, speaking in soft tones in between planting kisses on her lips. Then the kissing became too lengthy to bother with accompanying 'sweet nothings' and the maid went visibly limp in his practiced hold. At this point, Emil recognized the privacy they required, and hastily made his getaway without attracting any attention.

His chores completed, the castle searched for the villainous nobles to no avail, Emil retired early to his room with every intention of getting his much-deserved rest. But it was not so.

His dreams plagued him with nonsensical situations that had him either running from gigantic mop monsters - no doubt inspired by his daily chores - or cornered by an exceptionally determined Richter, whose eyes were always so vibrantly green they seemed to pierce through the semi-darkness of whatever shady location they 'met' in. This scenario - the Richter affair, not the mop monster - occurred a grand total of four times in his series of dreams, lasting him until right before he woke.

The last one was the clearest, or maybe that was only because he woke in the middle of it, and could therefore recall it better. It had started, as some dreams tend to, in a familiar environment: Emil's small room in the maid quarters.

_A knock came at his door, and Emil was startled out of sleep by the unexpected sound. He slid off the bed and went to answer it without a thought, despite the nightgown that was his current state of clothing. As he opened the door sleepily, the thought drifted lazily through his head that he was in trouble, because he was supposed to be a girl, but wasn't wearing the contraption under his clothes that gave him the melons, and somehow this was very important..._

_The thought vanished when he saw Richter standing there, clad in not the noble's clothing - something about a 'mission' floated through his mind, but he couldn't recall what that was about - but in his regular attire. Just Richter, standing there eyeing him as if he was a particularly fascinating tapestry he intended on studying. _

_Emil's mouth moved but he couldn't form any words. Only a few scarce sounds left him, mumbles of 'Rich... ter?' that the other man probably couldn't even make out. Make out? As soon as those words swept through his mind, they seemed to trigger an unstoppable event that began to play itself out. _

_Richter brushed past him into the room, and shut the door quickly and locked it. Then he turned, with an odd blaze in his emerald eyes, and pushed Emil back onto the small cot, where he landed with a thump and an expulsion of breath that somehow didn't leave him at all in need of air. He should have been concerned about where this was going, but everything was hazy, moving slowly as if through murky water, and he watched curiously, as if from afar, as the red-haired man was suddenly on top of him, hands to either side of his head, gazing down at him languidly. _

_Richter murmured something to him that he couldn't really hear, and then he leaned down and connected their mouths hungrily, as if they had done this many a time before and he was impatient. Emil couldn't entirely feel the sensation, but it was enough that he began to squirm at the contact, especially when he noticed a painting on the wall that seemed to be a portrait of Freckles, which was moving in a way that looked like she was laughing at him. _

_Just then, the snake of a nobleman was also in the room, and he began to talk incessantly of young maids and their 'milky skin' and 'virgin lips' until Emil started to wonder idly if Richter was going to stop kissing him and shut the man up. For some reason, neither the painting nor the sudden appearance of the nobleman was anything out of the ordinary, for he only felt a tinge of faint irritation at both events, with a noticeably lack of surprise._

_He began to wake up just as Zelos walked in holding a very odd-looking costume that looked like it was made of inky black leather, and the nobleman mentioned something about handcuffs._

"Nnn... eh?" Emil came to with a startled little noise, suddenly aware of all the bizarre elements in his dream that had seemed rather ordinary at the time. And why had Richter kept seducing him in random places? I mean, not that it was entirely unenjoyable, but really, it wasn't like those sorts of things were ever going to happen, so he chalked it up as just another weird facet of his dreams.

He abruptly recalled his mission, and prepared himself dutifully for a day of floor-scrubbing and shelf-dusting.

* * *

Emil really hoped Sheena's ninjas had more information on the three nobles, because he sure hadn't overseen anything useful as of late. He was beginning to think they might be onto him, seeing as they had been strangely absent from the castle hallways since the time he listened in on their conversation in the Library. Or maybe it was just coincidence, and he had nothing to worry about.

He sighed, wondering how long he had until dinner so he could stop trying to look like he was waxing the rails of the balcony. It was really wasn't an ideal task for him, seeing as the distance from the balcony to the floor below was considerable, and he had discovered his latent fear of heights. But there wasn't much else to do, so he tried to ignore the large expanse of air between him and the very solid ground too far below, and concentrated instead on imaginary conversations with Richter, which usually didn't go very well. Richter was the same in his imagination as in real life - stubborn, much too serious, and completely lacking any feelings whatsoever for him, with the possible exception of a maid-costume fetish. But Emil wasn't sure about that one, either.

Emil was so absorbed with his rather random conversations with imaginary Richter that he jumped when a quiet voice suddenly called out to him. "Emil."

"Wh-wh-what!?" He turned, panicked, to see a face that should have set his mind at ease, but instead only caused more apprehension to surge through his body. It was Richter, naturally.

"The Armory and the Library are occupied." Richter said slowly, and his eyes were narrowed in that way that seemed to hint at an unlucky person's imminent death should circumstances not change around to his liking. "The two broom closets... are also in use."

"R-really?" Emil asked in surprise, more to fill the silence of doom than anything. Meanwhile, thoughts zoomed through his head asking all sorts of things, from 'how is it that both closets are being used? How many maids let themselves be seduced into broom closets, anyway?' to 'how _does _one accurately describe the taste of a miracle gel?'

"Yes. It seems we must make do with this," Richter gestured, unenthused, to the balcony where they now stood together. "Unfortunately, there are... witnesses."

Richter made it sound like he was going to commit some sort of murder, but Emil understood him to mean that they were being watched by a number of nobles, who couldn't be allowed to become suspicious of their platonic little conversation. "Oh."

"Indeed. That... man... warned us about this." Richter glided closer to Emil as he spoke, never removing his eyes from his. "Any ideas?" Richter said this with that dry hint of sarcasm he always used when he knew Emil couldn't possibly do anything to help a situation, but this time he was actually in the wrong.

Emil did, in fact, have an idea. His mind had immediately taken him back to the night before, when he had seen the disgusting nobleman kissing a maid in plain sight on this very same balcony. Where he had watched them talking until there was no more talking to watch. It all pointed to one very clear conclusion: after a certain time of prolonged kissing, even the most curious of nobles would inevitably turn away, ashamed of practicing such blatant voyeurism.

"W-well..." And Emil explained, in halting words, exactly what he had seen yesterday, as well as his theory of the quickest way to repel the gazes of suspicious onlookers.

When Emil finished, Richter's expression was something like that of a chef who has just been told that he is to broil an entire armaboar and serve it with a side salad of kelp and... something that really doesn't go well with kelp.

But then, Richter seemed to begrudgingly accept his place in the mission - prodded by the burning eyes on the both of them, which were getting increasingly interested - and stepped very close to his young charge, cautious air about him pervading all.

"Much as I'd rather not... admit it... you're right." The red-haired warrior 'hmph'-ed, and awkwardly raised a hand to caress Emil's cheek, though it seemed to take all his strength to keep his eyes on Emil's while he did this. After all, it wouldn't look right if he averted his gaze after performing such a tiny action. And they would be doing worse in another moment.

Emil colored abruptly as the thought of what was about to happen struck him solidly. "Um... R-Richter?"

"Yes, Emil?" It was exceedingly odd how Richter, who normally would have lost his temper at these troublesome proceedings, said his name softly, as if he pitied him for what they were about to do for the sake of a mission. An intensity lit green eyes as the man waited patiently for his question.

"I, um, w-well..." Emil wasn't at all sure what he wanted to say, only that he felt _something _had to be said before they started, well, _kissing_, of all things. "D-don't... worry ab-bout me."

"All right." Richter said very quietly, and his hands went to either side of Emil's face, skin-to-skin contact startling when he realized his friend's hands weren't gloved as usual, but bare. He had never felt the naked palms against his skin before, but now they seemed to burn against his cheeks, partially obscuring the deep rose-red blush spreading across his face.

Emil's heart stopped beating for a moment as they stood there, not a nobleman and a maid, but clearly, in his mind's eye... Richter and Emil. Their disguises melted away before him as he suddenly realized that above all it was the two of them, no embellishments, about to kiss as surely as if they were truly just two people discovering each other for the first time.

His thoughts came to a halt as Richter leaned in hesitantly, and the way he came so close and paused right before Emil's lips made it unbearably embarrassing, and yet his heart was racing and his stomach twisted in that brief moment they waited like that. And then Richter's mouth met his, blissful warmth blossoming where they touched, and he closed his eyes. At first, those lips lingered on his as if to ask permission, as if ashamed to do anything but press themselves to his in a chaste greeting of a kiss.

In the darkness behind closed lids, he felt the warm lips pull away slightly, their breath mingling, and then Richter was kissing him, mouth sliding against his like crushed velvet. The world disappeared except for the warm mouth on his, and the warmth pooling in his stomach grew with every shift of those talented lips, exactly as he had predicted. The hands cupping his face tilted his mouth so that each time they parted briefly, he could then connect their lips again at another angle, each time fueling the fiery sensation that was no longer contained in the maid's blushing face.

Abruptly Richter withdrew, giving Emil a chance to regain his lost breath, and he thought it was over. He pressed the look on Richter's face deep into his memory - that foreign expression of barely concealed surprise and the hint of an insidious blush attempting to creep onto his face. But then Richter leaned in close, lips moving against his ear in a way that made him stop breathing all over again.

"They're watching."

And without another word, Richter took his hands, squeezed them slightly as he felt their trembling, and his lips descended upon Emil once more, this time even more slowly, almost alarming in their effects. Emil forgot everything, fell into the deep chasm of dream-land, and began to respond meekly, mimicking Richter's movements. The kiss became something more as he joined in, their mouths moving together in a strange harmony, and he heard himself make a muffled sound of appreciation he hadn't meant to let out.

His mouth fell open farther when Richter's mouth pressed harder against his, and there was a moment of indecision where a tongue could have breached the insignificant wall between their mouths, but didn't. Instead, after a few more seconds of awkwardness when that barrier had been established, Richter drew back, with a finality in his eyes that hinted at the end of their little adventure.

"Gone." Richter remarked blankly, completely expressionless through some skill Emil had yet to learn. "The mission?"

"I-I haven't s-seen the three... f-for a while now." Emil provided shakily, trying to forget the immensely pleasurable but unthinkable activity they had just been engaged in. "I h-hope they aren't o-onto me."

"Hmm." If Richter was displeased, he didn't feel like showing it more than his usual seriousness. "Sheena's ninjas haven't given us much yet, but they've located those three. It shouldn't take much longer."

"U-um, that's... g-good." Emil tried in vain for a cheerful note, but he was more than half delirious from the effect of Richter's rather talented kissing, and only ended up sounding disconnected from reality.

"Hey, are you... okay?" Richter hesitated, and let go of his hands after he appeared to realize they were still linked.

"Oh, o-of course." Emil nodded hastily. "Y-you're, um, I-I mean... n-n-nevermind." And Emil could have thrown himself off the nearby railing just then for nearly saying what would have turned him red for eternity.

_You're... a very good kisser, Richter._


	7. Chapter 7

Wow... I, um, just wrote the last 1000 words of this story. No, no, it doesn't end this chapter! For some reason I saw the ending in my head, and I couldn't bear to forget how it went, so it's finished now. I guess that just leaves me... hmm... maybe four chapters after this one, and then that last part. Yay?

* * *

**Ch.7**

**

* * *

  
**

Emil had the (mis)fortune of a deep, dreamless sleep that night, bereft of troublesome thoughts and illogical situations. Unfortunately, he woke to his own illogical situation, with as much enthusiasm as ever. Which is to say, not very much at all. Therefore, it should have followed that Emil, shackled to a reconnaissance mission in which he was forced to crossdress, perform menial labor, and pretend to be his closest friend's lover, would automatically assume a morose mood.

But, wonder of wonders, he had never felt better.

"Mmmm... morning!" He stretched and gave a huge yawn and then began to assemble the pieces to his maid outfit with only a little sleepiness lingering in his eyes. At first, he wasn't sure why he felt so very content, but it didn't take long for memories of last night to flood back into his mind like a crowd of happy little fairies.

Richter had kissed him yesterday. More than that, he'd... he'd kissed him a _lot_. This was as descriptive as he could get without bursting into flame, seeing as his face had already turned a stunning shade of salmon. But he didn't even notice that much as he got into his disguise, replaying last night's scene over and over in his head dazedly. A spot of drool made itself known at the corner of his mouth, and he hastily wiped it off on the back of his hand, a tad embarrassed.

Richter was definitely a good kisser. Those lips, on his, had moved slowly, almost hypnotically... it was magical. If he could do that to someone he didn't even like, imagine... what would it be like to _really _be kissed by him? Emil drifted off into his imaginary world where he and Richter spent days on end gallivanting through flowery meadows, every now and again lying down on the soft beds of lilacs to indulge in spontaneous kissing sessions. Mmmmm.

"Wait, n-no!" Emil slapped a hand to his forehead, realizing he was standing there with only half of his outfit on properly. _I have to focus! This mission is really important. I need to see if I can find those three nobles again..._

And he determinedly finished donning the maid outfit, and set out to receive his list of cleaning duties for the day.

* * *

As he at last left the maid quarters, Emil couldn't help but overheard the two maids talking right outside the door, huddled together like they didn't want anyone to notice them. It was suspicious enough that Emil pretended rather unconvincingly that he had forgotten something in his room, and hid behind the door to listen in on their conversation, much as he had in pertinence to his actual mission. Which these maids could be a part of, too - you never could tell, as he was himself proving at this point.

"Oh, he's soooo handsome!"

"And dashing, too... I'd love to be swept off my feet by a man like that."

Emil wondered, for a moment, if they had spotted Richter somewhere in the castle, but brushed it off as he heard the next words.

"That gorgeous blonde hair, it's so wavy and... and... well, you know!"

"And his eyes... mmm. Those kinds of deep blue eyes are so amazing, don't you think?"

"I can certainly see why Doria let herself get carried away, hehehe." And the voice dissolved into giggles.

"Did she actually let him...?"

"That's what she told me!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"Oh my goodness."

"But didn't you hear how he was courting Marion a while ago?"

"What? Really? Wasn't that just last month?"

"Yes... it's quite fast, to go from one maid to another like that. You'd almost think he's meaning to go through all of us, at this rate!" But the way the maid said this implied amusement more than fear.

"Well," A giggle interrupted for a moment. "I don't think _I'd _protest."

And then both maids began to giggle in a way that seemed like they'd lost hold of the subject at hand, and Emil, having judged that this had nothing whatsoever to do with his mission, decided to set out and complete his chores like a good little maid.

Still... all that talk about a handsome nobleman who went around seducing maids was a little disconcerting. Come to think of it, hadn't he seen a maid with that guy before? What had they said... wavy blonde hair and blue eyes? It had to be him! And Emil had seen him just yesterday, for the second time in as many days, with another maid...

Did that mean this scumbag was trying to get his hands on any maid dumb enough to be ensnared by his appearance? Hmmm... it was a troubling thought, but Emil supposed he couldn't make any conclusions just based on what he'd heard. Still, he had seen the man with two different women this week, which seemed pretty fishy. Well, it wasn't up to him to judge, so he figured he'd leave the matter alone.

* * *

Emil hadn't thought of the possibility that the matter wouldn't leave _him _alone. It caught him off-guard, at an undeniably joyful point in his day. He had just finished washing all the pots and pans, dusting the Library, and doing the laundering. For once, he'd actually managed to take care of all his tasks within his time limit, probably due to the fact that he hadn't once seen anything suspicious - besides the maids that morning, but they hardly counted - and so had more time to spend on actually cleaning. He was feeling really accomplished when he was heading back towards the maids' quarters for dinner, expecting to taste the stew he'd seen being prepared earlier. Beef stew, mmm!

But then the thought occurred to him that maybe Richter would be looking for him with news of Sheena's ninjas, so he abruptly veered off his original course and ended his little circuit of the castle at the balcony where they had... discussed the mission... the day before. He stood there, surveyed the sparse groups of nobles, and found no Richter. In slight exasperation, more disappointment than actual frustration, he turned and looked out from the balcony, down at the king's throne and Princess Hilda's regular dinner party starting. That meant the nobles would begin to clear out soon; indeed, he could already hear them moving away.

Emil sighed, wondering if it would be a better idea to wait for Richter here, or go ahead and eat dinner and come back.

"Excuse me, beautiful, are you waiting for someone?" A suave voice got his attention immediately in the recent quiet inspired by the mass exodus of nobles.

He turned curiously to see the flamboyantly-dressed noble the maids had been swooning over earlier that day. If Emil had been the type to trip over himself at a dashing, blonde-haired, blue-eyed nobleman, he certainly wouldn't have been disappointed, for this man did indeed have a striking appearance. But he had been expecting Richter, and the stranger was not a welcome substitute, especially considering his true reasons for meeting with Richter - meaning, of course, the mission.

And then Emil considered the man's question, and realized he had been staring at him for much too long. "U-um, I..." In a split-second, he decided mentioning Richter would be all right, since the court knew him by that name as well. "I w-was waiting for a f-friend of mine. Lord Abend?" He probably shouldn't have made it a question.

"Ah, I thought it might be him." And the newcomer smiled ingratiatingly, in a flashy way even Emil could sense ulterior motives in. Who did this guy think he was kidding? It was as obvious as a Kraaken lumbering across the icy tundra near Flanoir what he was up to.

"Y-yes." Emil was left with nothing to say, but not sure how to take his leave without seeming like he was running away from the man, which would have certainly seemed like his relationship with Richter was a secretive one. And it wasn't attention he welcomed, since it could reveal their purpose if anyone watched them too closely. He supposed he could wait until Richter himself turned up, since any man subjected to that glare would definitely get 'a hint' and leave with utmost haste.

"So... you're _familiar_ with Lord Abend?" The way this nobleman stressed the one word seemed as if he was digging for something, and it turned Emil's stomach in an entirely uncomfortable way, not at all like the times his stomach flipped when he was around Richter.

"Um, y-yes. I suppose you c-could say th-that." Emil attempted a hesitant smile, not sure how much he could reveal. After all, weren't he and Richter supposedly carrying out a 'secret' love affair? If that was true, he wouldn't want to tell anyone about it who didn't find out by mistake.

"I wonder - not meaning any offense, of course - what sort of business a lord like him would have with a maid?" The man raised an elegantly-shaped eyebrow in a way that suggested he utilized this expression often.

Emil's mind pointed out that _this _lord was talking to a lot of maids lately, but he refrained from commenting on that and instead scrambled for a lie that would not only take focus away from a possible 'suspicious' relationship with a more business-oriented mindset, but would also not give away his pretend secret courtship. "W-well, we are... very good friends."

"Oh? That's quite rare as far as I've noticed." He pretended a polite show of interest, but Emil could tell something lurked beyond the facade, something deeper. This man was after answers. Was he trying to root out a possible spy...? This could be bad!

"I g-guess it is, isn't it?" Emil said charmingly, trying his best to appear feminine and not terribly bright, as this would enforce the idea that he was a cute maid with no potential as a spy. That was, after all, the point of the disguise.

Unfortunately, the nobleman took this moment to subtly move closer, as if by mere curiosity, and into a realm of space a little too close for comfort, but not quite close enough for Emil to comment on it without sounding paranoid. "Lord Abend... he doesn't seem like the type to make friends without there being some benefit to him."

Oh, no, this was really bad! If the nobleman continued on that train of thought, he might come to the conclusion that there was something useful about Emil, and therefore come much too close to the truth about the mission and its participants. He couldn't let anything happen, so he tried his best to act oblivious to the man's interrogation strategy.

"W-well, that's probably b-because you don't kn-know him very well." Emil pointed out, in a polite, kind tone that was not intended to poke fun at the nobleman, since getting him angry was another bad idea.

"I suppose you two must be very close, then?" The nobleman was whispering now, and Emil saw just how close he had gotten - close enough that Emil could have protested, but he didn't want to seem suspicious, so he just left it alone. He was much too busy trying to keep his emotions in check, since the inquisition was making him all flustered.

"Y-yes, you could s-say that." No! What had he done? Was he about to give away their secret? The fake cover-story about their courtship?

"How much does he pay you for your services?" The man's tone was low and intimidating; though some might have called it seductive, it was dangerous to Emil, who at last understood what the stranger was truly after.

"S-s-services!?" Emil squeaked, truly stunned at the idea the man had of him. "Why d-do you think I would b-be doing th-that?" His instincts told him to run away as fast as he could, but the man had already taken a firm hold on his wrist, tight enough it hurt, though it might appear from afar to be an intimate gesture.

"I can see through your little act, sweetheart." That 'charming' smile flashed once more, and Emil began to feel sick to his stomach with the thought of all that he'd stumbled into. "So I'll ask again: how much?"

"I-I-I don't d-do those s-sorts of things!" Emil choked out, feeling his face burn indignantly, especially when he felt the man's other hand tilting his chin upwards to where their gazes met unavoidably. "R-really!"

Those deep blue eyes were far more frightening than any other aspect of their meeting, and Emil found himself panicking as they ensnared his, dark curiosity clouded with lust soiling their sapphire purity. The man didn't seem to care about Emil's emotions, however, as he leaned in close as if to kiss him, though Emil twisted away so that it landed on his cheek instead, a lesser evil.

"I'm sure we can... work out a deal of some kind." The villain's eyes narrowed and chilled his blood with their utter apathy. "You wouldn't want to be thrown out of the castle due to your filthy 'services,' would you, darling? I, the benevolent Renaldo, would much prefer the alternative to such a drastic course of action..."

Emil felt truly sick, felt his insides churning as his eyes widened and his mind strained to think of some way out of this, even as Renaldo took his hand and began leading him somewhere, away from the balcony, out of sight of the crowds that had gathered in the main hall for the dinner banquet. His head felt foggy, panic having sapped him of all thought for the time being.

The halls were abandoned, for the nobles had all gone to supper with light hearts, no thought in their minds as to a young lord who was off seducing another helpless maid.

* * *

Richter was beginning to get very frustrated with Emil after something like ten minutes of walking around the deserted castle without one glimpse of the elusive maid. This _was _the usual time at which they met, wasn't it? Where _was _he? Maybe he was still eating dinner in the maid quarters? Did they have dinner at this time?

With a sigh of complete exasperation, Richter went towards the maid quarters, thinking perhaps he could catch one of the maids leaving the place and ask them for Emil's whereabouts. In spite of the action being conspicuous, it was a better idea than just waiting for someone who plainly wasn't showing up. But a maid had already beat him to it, as there was one standing right outside the maid quarters, concerned frown in place on her cutely-freckled face.

The freckled girl looked up as he approached, and her mouth formed a silent 'O' as her eyes went up and down his form.

"Y-you!" She exclaimed excitedly, and then immediately sobered, and beckoned him closer for the sake of speaking more quietly. "You're the one Amelia's always talking about, aren't you?"

Despite his surprise that some random maid knew about him from Emil, Richter managed a polite, "Yes, that's right. Do you know where she is, by any chance?"

"What? I thought... you would know... where she was?" The freckled girl said slowly, that worried look materializing again as she looked down at the tiled floor awkwardly. "No one has seen her since before dinner, and she was really looking forward to it. Beef stew, you know." But the nervous laugh the maid gave at the attempt at some lightness made the situation seem suddenly grave.

"She's... missing?" Richter inquired blankly, though inside his thoughts were a whirlwind of theories, starting with the most dangerous, and his heart was already starting to race at the thought of chasing down an enemy who had kidnapped Emil, even if he had no clue what had actually happened.

"I... maybe." The girl bit her lip anxiously and then lowered her voice further. "I was thinking... I saw a nobleman walking around by himself earlier, right when the others were leaving for the dinner banquet. I remember it because he was, I mean, really handsome." She flushed embarrassedly.

Richter knew at once. "Blonde, wavy hair? Blue eyes?"

"Y-yes, how did you...?" Her eyes were questioning for a moment, but a moment was all she got from Richter.

He spun around and his body took over from his mind, footsteps echoing discordantly on marble tile as he began to run.


	8. Chapter 8

Um... wow. I've outdone myself. I guess reading hentai really does help one to write certain scenes... Although it was still somewhat disturbing writing this kind of thing. On a completely different note, AntiSora made me lol big time with the awkwardly-timed suggestion that I should write a RichterEmil lemon... I've always considered it, but really, that was the most hilarious time to throw that idea out there.

**Note: **Somewhat disconcerting material ahead - nothing graphic, so I don't believe I'll have to up the rating, but just in case... proceed with caution, and skip ahead if you need to.

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**Ch.8**

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"W-wait! Stop!" Emil cried out as the nobleman slammed the door of the closet behind him, tight grip bruising his slender wrist. "Th-this is..."

"Don't worry, darling." His hot breath was on Emil's face already as he closed in with an excited glaze to his eyes. "I'll pay you when I'm done. And I'll top his price, at that!"

"N-no! You've g-got it all wr-wr-wrong!" Emil struggled against the man's iron grip, but it was futile, like a little rabbit caught in a snare.

"Well, isn't this useful?" The man had turned away from him and seemed to be rummaging through the shelves of the small storage closet. Emil attempted to break out of his hold, but the man had clearly anticipated that, and clenched his wrist tighter to the point it felt like his bones were going to shatter, causing him to cry out again.

And then the nobleman turned back to him, completely apathetic to the tears that had begun to streak the maid's lovely face, and showed him his find: ropes.

"L-let me go!" Emil shouted frantically as the man began to tie his two slender wrists together behind his back, and then looped the rope around his torso as well, completely ridding him of the use of his arms. Already panicked, Emil's fears rose to a new level and he started crying uncontrollably, tears streaming down his cheeks as he shook, trying to twist around and somehow free himself.

"Now, now, this won't take very long - don't annoy me by putting on too much of a show!" The man pretended not to notice said 'show' as he used the remaining length of rope to bind the maid's ankles, rendering him utterly helpless and increasing his tears twofold.

"S-s-stop! _Please_!" He begged, all shred of dignity melting away at the thought of what was about to happen, and he couldn't see any way out of it, not now. It was too late, he should have _run_, should have _screamed _when this madman was hauling him through the corridors, but he hadn't. The shock had set in, and he had blindly let himself stumble alongside his captor with the threats he had been given.

"Oh, come now, it won't be all that bad." The man smirked in a way he probably thought was disarming, but Emil could barely see through the wall of tears stinging his eyes.

As the once-handsome man leaned in close, Emil began to scream, as loud as he possibly could, throwing aside all pride. Humility's burn numbed him and he didn't care; he existed to scream in that moment, knowing it was the only chance he had. He screamed for help, he screamed wordlessly when his mind blanked.

The next moment he shrieked as a force connected with his jaw, the flat of a hand hitting him hard enough it turned his whole head. He tasted blood at the side of his mouth, but had no time to assess the damage as the nobleman - how could he be noble? - muttered something under his breath and then seized Emil's face in one hand and held it in there, not a difficult task due to the void that had taken the place of his thoughts, his emotions, his everything.

His face was held there forcibly as the man's mouth crushed against his, a rough thing that bore little resemblance to a kiss, more of an action meant to suffocate, to silence. The other hand slid down Emil's side, drifting purposefully from his waist to his hips to his thigh, a startling coldness against bare flesh as it slipped around to the inside of his leg, much too close to discovering the truth Emil couldn't bear to see revealed.

A tiny glint of light made itself known in the middle of chaos with one simple question. Would the man stop, disgusted, when he found out Emil was not a girl? Or...

The man at last withdrew from his lips, only to slip off one of Emil's satin gloves and stuff it in his mouth, a makeshift gag as it was sealed with the hand that wasn't caressing his inner thigh, causing him to close his eyes to the reality that was making him sick. He heard something significant behind closed eyes, a shift in the air and the rustling of clothing, and suddenly the man had abandoned his hold on the gag, and both hands were pushing his legs apart, though they were still bound at the ankle.

The result was a painful, strained position as Emil tried, in newfound horror, to spit out the gag so he could maybe, just maybe, scream loud enough for help to arrive. But it was more difficult than he had thought, especially as every touch of the man's hands on his legs made him shudder in a way that seemed to cause his captor to laugh darkly against his skin.

"Such beautiful, milky white legs..." The murmur drove deep into his brain, lodging itself there in a frozen moment of terror right before a mouth connected with the soft, sensitive skin of his thigh.

Emil let out a muffled cry as the man started sucking on that skin at the inside of his leg, an area so untouched, formerly, that its tainted awakening was even more of a shock than the violent kiss had been. His lips had taken the punishment with a stunned sense of vandalization, but his thigh, right there, felt like it was being dirtied by the mouth that even now was licking at it and biting down harshly every so often, making him shriek into the gag that he was still trying to loosen.

At last, as the man kept up his filthy ministrations, Emil managed to spit out the gag, that satiny thing he had once worn proudly as part of his uniform, but no longer.

"RICHTER!"

The man stopped what he was doing and presumably began to scavenge for another gag, but Emil didn't even keep track any longer, didn't think, only screamed. He had to escape, he had to be as loud as he could!

"RICHTER!"

He was crying even as he yelled, and his third attempt caught in his throat and never surfaced, but he was determined, and he choked down his tears. The man slapped him again to shut him up, but he knew it was the only way, and he ignored the fresh blood in his mouth.

"HELP ME, RICHTER! _HELP ME_!"

"That's enough out of you!" The man snarled, and thrust the saliva-soaked glove back into the maid's mouth without a care.

And then the door to the closet banged open, and the next few moments were blurs of movement that Emil couldn't follow with his misted vision, the tears filling his eyes still sheltering him. A crash as the nobleman hit the wall, the sound of someone gasping for breath as if against a stranglehold, a low voice as cold as the dead of winter that said something so quietly it was inaudible to Emil. A growl, a raspy voice pleading loudly for his life, and then a thud, and the sound of something heavy sliding to the ground.

Emil lost consciousness, his last, blurred sight a stained glass window of red, caramel, and lavender.

* * *

Emil awoke in a cloudlike bed with beautiful, pure white silk sheets. For a few moments he couldn't recall anything, not his name or his age or any of his memories. He didn't know where he was, but somehow everything was all right as he lay there, at peace, in the soft bed. He was given that short respite to calm his mind for the incoming storm.

And then he remembered all of it, in such harsh detail it cut into him like so many knives, and he found himself curling up defensively to hide his new tears. He hadn't wanted to remember. He never would have wanted to remember.

"Emil..." The tentative calling of his name from close by startled him, though he had immediately recognized its holder.

He carefully uncurled, felt he should sit up but chose not to. He opened his mouth but he couldn't speak, felt the healing skin at the side of his mouth tentatively and suddenly couldn't breathe very well. He hadn't looked at Richter yet, and he wanted to but he kept himself from it, as if he didn't deserve to look upon his savior.

"Emil... are you... you're..." The disjointed, faulty speech pattern shouldn't have come from Richter, whose smooth coldness typified his every exchange, but now was something extraordinary.

"Richter," He managed to say only that, in a whisper he wasn't sure his friend had heard.

"I... want to see your eyes." The deep, silken tones of that voice were the only encouragement that could have moved Emil from his doll-like state, in such a space between realities that he had, until just then, felt not truly alive.

But this woke him further, enough that he suddenly sat up, turned his face awkwardly to see his guardian, his protector, his rescuer. Richter's eyes seemed to barely hold in the emotions racing through them, things Emil hadn't ever seen before in such intensity in his friend. Fear, of the basest kind, such an emotion reserved for survival, was foremost in the chaotic depths of emerald green.

"You've recalled everything." Richter noted aloud, unsteadily, as he watched Emil's mask of a face, unchanging as a painting.

"Yes." His stutter was gone, with the rest of his usual habits, his embarrassing blushes, his cheerfulness... It was somewhere on a higher shelf that he could not reach, and he wondered absently if Richter could reach it for him, though he wasn't even sure at that point what he was thinking of any longer.

Shock set in, prickling, as a warmth wrapped around him, at first inspiring a lancing coldness as he was brought back to the day before. But this was Richter, and he soon realized it was safety. The warmth of the embrace was surprising somehow, as his friend held him like that, tightly but gently, with no explanation necessary to excuse the action. And then a curious sensation began to spread throughout him, a tingle of something that seemed to thaw him, and suddenly he melted into the embrace, and tears were running down his face once more.

"I should have known. I should have been there sooner. I could have... stopped it." Richter's mutterings were full of the harshest guilt, a regret that would stay with him longer than the tears on Emil's face.

"Y-you... it's... n-not your... fault." Emil dissolved further into tears, though they were now relieved rather than frightened. He was coming back to himself, and it was more of a relief than anything else.

He knew he would recover from all of it when Richter withdrew, and the hint of a blush grew on the blonde's face as he saw him there, so close, showing his caring more openly than he ever had before.

Richter's hand went to the damage at the side of Emil's mouth, just a cautious touch to remind himself it would not stay there forever. "Does it hurt?"

"N-no." Emil managed, though he was beginning to feel that familiar lightheadedness in Richter's presence, and it was a glorious inconvenience when it distracted him from the events of yesterday. Gentle touches like those could never frighten him, not when it was Richter.

"I... examined you... yesterday." Richter began awkwardly, averting his gaze as his hand dropped from Emil's face. "I... your leg... are you all right?"

"My l-leg?" Emil pictured a broken leg, confused, and then that, too, rushed back to him and he nearly gagged in remembrance. "O-oh..."

He unabashedly tossed off the remnants of the blankets and lifted the long nightgown slightly to see the ugly mark there on the inside of his right thigh, almost a kiss mark except so much more... hideous. It was sloppily formed, larger than the one he had had the chance to see on his neck. And it had not been the same at all. That mouth had been... Emil covered his own mouth and looked away from the bruised thing suddenly.

"May I... see it?" Richter ventured with caution, his unnatural pauses beginning to sound like a new pattern in the making.

Emil nodded absently, though his face was making up for this with a darkening flush of his cheeks as Richter leaned over the bed and shifted the nightgown a little to see the mark, in such a tender place that had never known attention before. It was an awkward position as Richter stared coldly at the tainted area, and Emil tried in vain to ignore Richter's eyes on such a private area. It was his leg, yes, but it was part of his leg he didn't show, not even in his beachwear.

"I'm sorry." Richter apologized softly, as if for the moment when his fingers brushed over the mark, causing Emil's heart to jump into his throat as he stifled what would have been a very awkward noise. But Richter wasn't apologizing for one simple touch, but for what had come to pass through no fault of his.

"N-no, I'm s-sorry..." Emil ignored the slight burning of his cheeks and looked directly into those vibrant eyes. "I-I... should have d-done something, before..."

It was the strangest thing that during such a somber recollection the world seemed to move in slow motion, their faces much closer than either had noticed until that moment. Emil's words left him, his heart beating fast at the expression on his friend's face, such intense longing for something, a desire more potent than any he had seen.

"Emil... I wanted to protect you. But I..." Their gazes had still not wavered, and Richter looked caught off guard as he, too, abandoned all speech simply to survey the short distance between them, feel the heated air that urged them forward, and yet neither moved for what seemed like an eternity.

But Richter moved back to a respectable distance as the door opened, and the moment ended before it had truly begun.


	9. Chapter 9

You know, reading the two reviews from you guys (AntiSora and Blackrose) who actually read the new chapter after it came out AT FOUR IN THE MORNING... wow... I'm stunned that anyone would be awake at that time - although I guess you guys could be in another time zone? - enough to read anything, haha. Thanks for making me smile, everyone.

**Note: **I think there may be some confusion (AntiSora, lolz) from the dream where Emil wasn't wearing the bra thing. That was just in the dream. In reality, he has been wearing it all the time as a maid, so no one has guessed at his gender yet. And the nobleman last chapter luckily did not get far enough to have suspicions, either. Just clearing that up!

**Random Note: **It's kinda interesting to me that both Zelos's butler and the demon butler in Kuroshitsuji are named Sebastian. Just a coincidence, obviously, but I noticed as I was writing and couldn't help but comment.

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**Ch.9**

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It was an awkward, almost comical arrangement in Zelos's guest bedroom. Emil had sat up straighter when the door opened, just as Richter had hastily moved to pretend he had been sitting on the edge of the bed, and not leaning over it as he had, in fact, just been doing. Zelos had then walked into the room, followed by Sheena, and Richter had nonchalantly pulled the blankets back up to Emil's waist in the realization that he did not want anyone else seeing the blonde in his nightgown.

"Hey there." Zelos greeted them casually, but he looked sincerely uncomfortable. "I, uh, wanted to see how you were doing."

"Are you doing okay, Emil?" Sheena asked tentatively, coming to stand by the bed with Zelos, worry evident as she bit her lip self-consciously.

"I-I'm all right now, I think." Emil put forward his best smile, not entirely comfortable with the other two in the room, especially since he and Richter had been about to... do whatever they were doing. "Don't w-worry about me."

"Well, it's safe to say you aren't going back to the castle," Zelos told him with a hint of relief in his voice, avoiding looking at Richter as he said it. Emil had no idea why this was; had something happened while he was unconscious? He wanted to ask but he wasn't sure how to go about doing that.

"Yeah, it's too dangerous." Sheena quickly picked up where Zelos left off, not wanting to let the conversation get bogged down in guilt. "Anyway, uh, your information got us on the right track, so... thanks for sticking it out for a while. It must have been... really... difficult." She stopped talking then as her face turned pale and she gave a little cough and turned away.

Emil glanced over at Richter and saw the most frigid expression on the man's face.

"I can handle the rest of this." The ever-cold voice created a sort of freeze lancer spell hurtling through the air, causing Zelos and Sheena to excuse themselves from the room with great haste.

The moment the door closed, Richter seemed to relax, the ice melting as he looked back at Emil with the barest hint of a smile. "You don't have to worry about the mission. Sheena's ninjas are already tracking down the three nobles and Triana, and it won't be long until they take the rest of the information by force."

"By... force?" Emil wondered aloud, very quietly, and then shook his head and willed the thoughts away. "Um, th-that's... good."

"Yes." Richter hesitated then, and leaned over to place a comforting hand on Emil's shoulder, as if he needed to touch him again to make sure he was still there, still safe. "I... should go now."

"W-wait!" Emil felt a strong sense of deja vu as he lunged out to seize Richter's sleeve and watched the redhead look back over his shoulder at him. "I, um, w-well..."

"I won't be gone long." And Richter was kind enough to turn back to him and draw him close once more, waiting patiently for Emil to relax in his arms, the tension draining from him in the warmth of the embrace.

"A-all right." Emil conceded easily, and Richter withdrew, leaving a phantom of the heat behind.

* * *

Emil woke sometime later to Zelos's butler opening the door quietly with a tray laden with decadent food. The man - Sebastian, if he remembered right - walked in and gave a polite bow that miraculously didn't upset the tray he was holding, and then proceeded over to the bed.

"Here you are, Sir Emil." Sebastian politely did not comment on Emil's nightgown as he set the tray on the bed carefully. "Master Zelos hopes you are feeling better."

"Y-yes, I am." Emil replied courteously, managing to tear his gaze away from the food long enough to smile and thank the butler for his services.

Services... He shoved the memories away and determinedly began to consume the onion soup with great satisfaction. Buttered bread slices, soup, and the accompanying glass of water were all finished off in a short time, leaving Emil full and a little sleepy. It was a wonder that such a simple thing as food, a necessity comparable to sleep or air, could be so very calming. Already he had dismissed last night's events to the back of his mind in favor of savoring the flavor of the soup, and when the soup was gone, the delightful feeling lingered.

It was rather like being kissed, except not. Both actions were delicious, and left him with a contented feeling afterwards. But where the food put him to sleep, the kisses roused him from any sleepiness he could have experienced. At least, that was his theory. It wasn't like he had very much experience beyond the one time... with Richter... a couple days ago.

He drifted off to sleep again somehow, basking in the pleasant warmth of those memories, ones that he would never push to the back of his mind.

* * *

Emil awoke for the third time to see Zelos peeking around the edge of the door, as if this wasn't his own house, and Emil wasn't using his guest room at present. When the blonde sat up, the 'intruder' - as he appeared to be - ducked inside the room and closed the door softly before turning around with a sheepish grin.

"Uh, hey there!" Zelos greeted him with a hint of anxiousness, walking over to the bed. "I guess that Richter guy left a while ago?"

"Th-that's right." Emil confirmed, a little confused at the man's obvious apprehension. Was this somehow about Richter? Come to think of it, Zelos and Sheena did always seem on edge around the redhead... why was that, anyway?

"Phew. That's a relief." Zelos looked rather comical as he sat down on the edge of the bed with an accompanying grin, the very picture of a mischievous young boy seeking refuge from his furious nanny for some reason or another. "I wanted to talk to you about some stuff, that okay?"

"S-sure!" Emil replied curiously, something telling him he might find out the answers to some of his questions through Zelos. "What is it?"

"Well, uh, Richter... he's... somethin." Zelos's mouth twisted as he searched for a better choice of words. "I mean, the guy's really protective of you, you know? It's kinda scary sometimes."

"W-well, I guess so." Emil looked down at his knees, a little embarrassed that Zelos had noticed something like that. He hadn't thought it was _that _obvious, but he supposed, after a little thought, that Richter was always glaring at people, so they might get the wrong idea.

"So... are you two, like, married or something?" Zelos posed the question with all the subtlety of an egg bear, purple hide standing out from miles away. "I didn't think so at first, but, yeahhh..."

Emil flushed uncontrollably at the accusation of sorts, though 'accusation' wasn't exactly the word to use when referencing an assumption like that. "N-no! I-it's... r-really not like that!"

"Huh?" Zelos seemed a little lost at the semi-violent outburst his provocation had garnered, and tried for a different approach. "Well that's weird, I guess I was imagining things. Anyway, I just wondered 'cause he seems to get really... uh, angry... when anything happens to you."

"Wha... what did he do? Yesterday, I-I mean." Even Emil could sense that Zelos was tiptoeing around a certain subject, specifically Richter's reaction to the events of the day before.

"Uh... I guess I owe it to ya to tell you, don't I?" Zelos conceded, and then looked over at the door with no lack of dread before regaining his usual cockiness and beginning the explanation.

"I first noticed that something freaky was going on when Richter busted open the door to the mansion without even knocking. That part was pretty obvious."

* * *

_The red-haired man wasted no time standing in the doorway, and Zelos barely caught sight of what was in his arms as he rushed past, up the stairs and into the guest bedroom. A flash of blonde hair and the mint-green of the Tethe'allan maid uniform were the blatant hints that gave away the identity of the girl - well, boy - in Richter's arms. But why had he brought Emil back here, to the mansion? _

_It had seemed like a matter of life and death, the way the redhead had not even paused to address Zelos as he came in, nor explain what was going on. And he had practically run to the guest room, which of itself wasn't of any consequence since it was temporarily his room anyhow, but still! Surely it couldn't be that he was simply overenthusiastic about the prospect of... well, but there was hardly any proof of that. If Richter were to engage in such activities with Emil, he'd probably choose to do it in a much less suspicious fashion, in short, anything besides what he had just done. _

_That left an emergency, some kind of medical reason for the sudden barging in and consequent total lack of warning, leaving Zelos in the dust to wonder what the hell the happening in his mansion. _

_"Well, I guess that settles it..." Zelos muttered, concerned but not terribly panicked, as the journey to unite the two worlds had had more than its share of panic-deserving moments. This, however dire, was probably not on the same level of stopping the Giant Kharlan Tree from going crazy all over Sylvarant. _

_Although it could be, judging by the way Richter was acting._

_Zelos pushed open the door and saw Richter halfway through the task of undressing an unconscious Emil, who didn't look all that great sporting drying blood at the corner of his mouth. Naturally, this dispelled most of his romantic explanations for the intrusion, and he started to wonder if this was truly as a light a matter as he'd hoped._

_"Hey, what happened!?" He walked in but halted as Richter's gaze snapped to him momentarily. Those eyes... they were so sharp it was like being _stabbed _just by _looking _at them! Hands shaking humiliatingly, he expected the next moment to consist of Richter commanding him to leave, but he was surprised when the man addressed him as he continued to remove Emil's clothing._

_"Are you familiar with a Lord Renaldo?" The livid fury, like scorching fire, permeated the man's words and sent shivers of the worst sort down Zelos's spine. _

_"Uh... a blonde guy? Blue eyes? Real hit with the la... dies..." Zelos trailed off as Richter's hands clenched so hard they started shaking, and the warrior had to stop undressing his friend rather than hurt him by accident._

_"Find him. And arrest him." Richter growled, and then clutched his head for a tense moment where it seemed he was letting his anger drain away, yet still there was more to take its place. "He'll be in a storage closet."_

_"Whoa, whoa, what's going on?" Zelos had just spotted a nasty mark on Emil's thigh, right as Richter was removing the last of the maid uniform - leaving the undergarments as they were - and hastily began to slip the boy into a nightgown. "Wait a sec, you're not saying..."_

_Zelos's mind made the connection more easily than most would have given him credit for. He was, after all, pretty knowledgeable about affairs of the human body, and the mention of a certain slime of a nobleman paired with Richter's apparent fury and Emil's worse-for-wear appearance had led him to the conclusion. _

_"Ohhh this is not good!" Zelos exclaimed, instinct calling him over to the bed before he was stopped by another icy glare from Richter. "Is he okay? Did that guy really...?"_

_"I told you to leave." Richter's voice was low and dangerous, though this time he didn't take his eyes off Emil. "Lock up that bastard before I decide to finish him off!"_

_Zelos would never forget the look on Richter's face when he said that, though he wasted no time in fleeing the room and making the necessary arrangements for the villain's arrest. Even after he had left the room, while he sent messengers and contacted officials and set up a meeting with the overseers, those piercing eyes looked into his soul and froze his insides. In all his years as Chosen, he'd never seen anyone with a face like that. _

_Pure, unadulterated fury... it was something, all right._


	10. Chapter 10

If I could write fabulous lemons as easily as I imagine them, I could take over the world with my army of fangirls. Unfortunately, these kinds of things are the most difficult writing of all.

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**Ch.10**

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"And he's been like _that _ever since," Zelos finished with a sigh, twirling a strand of his bright red hair around a finger idly. "Gives me the creeps, ya know."

"O-oh... well, I don't th-think he'd hurt you." Emil provided optimistically, letting Zelos's words sink in slowly. Some of his questions had been solved by the explanation, but new ones were inevitably spawned in their place.

"Hmm. Who knows." Zelos stood and took on his usual cheesy smile with a practiced air, making for the door with a last shrug of exasperation. "Well, I'm out. Wouldn't want - ah."

The door opened in front of Zelos to admit a second redhead, whose narrowed eyes at the sight of another person in the room conveyed his displeasure. "Wouldn't want what?"

Zelos almost resigned himself to squeaking out a hasty excuse and running for it, but Lloyd's famous words about not running away came back to him, so he abandoned all pretense with yet another sigh. "Hey, let's have a talk real fast."

"What?" Richter's increase in moodiness was palpable as he stood there, statuesque, to block the doorway.

"He'll be back in a sec, kid." Zelos looked back over his shoulder to give Emil a characteristic wink, and then he proceeded to seize Richter's arm and drag him bodily from the room, letting the door close itself with a slight bang.

Emil was left wondering what in the world Zelos was thinking, especially since Richter had looked about ready to unleash his pent-up rage on the next person to look at him the wrong way. But Zelos seemed to know what he was doing... after all, he had been part of the group who united the two worlds. It was said that Sheena - though now cowering at the mere sight of Richter - had possessed an anger to be reckoned with in those days.

* * *

"What are you doing?" Richter exclaimed in indignation as he was finally released at the foot of the stairs, rubbing his arm unconsciously.

Zelos folded his arms stubbornly and assumed his most serious face. "Can you relax for a minute? Geez. I just wanna talk to you about Emil, okay?"

Richter shot him an unrepentant glare, turning as if to leave. "I don't see why I should - "

"See? That's what I meant! That there! You gotta stop it with the whole 'I'll kill you if you even mention him' thing! It's starting to get really annoying." Zelos protested animatedly, wondering, at this point, if this talk was going to do any good at all.

Richter just stood there woodenly, the hint of a death threat in his eyes, but at least he was there. He didn't look as if he cared for the other man's efforts to enlighten him, however.

"Oh, c'mon, don't gimme that look! Sure, the kid's the most important thing in the world to you, but do you _really _have to go that far just to protect him? He's started to notice it, ya know? And if he notices it - no offense - you can bet other people do." Zelos explained slowly, as if to a very small child who was a little slow to start out with.

By the twitch of Richter's hand, he would have preferred to strangle the redhead rather than stand by and be lectured on his personal habits. "What are you saying?"

Zelos was starting to get a little pissed at Richter's lack of compliance. "Seriously? You seriously don't get it? Okay, fine, here's how it is... If you don't stop glaring at anybody who looks at Emil, you are gonna be out of friends pretty fast. Because really, you look like you're gonna bite someone's head off. And I think he knows it, too, and you can bet he doesn't appreciate it."

"I don't see any point in being nice to people I don't like." Richter growled, hoping the other man would take the hint and give up his useless chattering.

"So the only person you like... is Emil? Is that what you're saying?" Zelos raised an elegant eyebrow, knowing the true answer but playing the game all nobles were weaned on.

"You could say that." Richter blinked, but otherwise gave no other indication that he was surprised by Zelos's slight change of focus.

Zelos, of course, was not satisfied. "Yeah, but are _you _saying that?"

"Perhaps." Richter replied emotionlessly.

Poor Zelos was at his wit's end with this icicle of a man, but he knew he owed it to Emil to try anyway. "Look, I don't care if you wanna dance around it. I know you're in love with him, would kill anyone who - hey, stop looking at me like that! - and all that stuff. But you gotta restrain yourself! Save the glares for the baddies, and try to at least get by with a plain old frown for the rest of us."

Richter seemed faintly surprised, for once. "... You think I'm in love... with Emil?"

"Is that all you got outta that? Sheesh... I got my work cut out for me." Zelos whined, almost hanging his head in defeat.

"I heard the rest of it. But I don't see why I should do what you say." Richter said, and his eyes flickered to the stairs as if he was really thinking about just walking away at this point.

Zelos scrambled for a better way to phrase his advice, and realized he'd have to involve Emil in order to get any interest out of his victim. "Well, Emil's gonna get tired of having everyone around him run away screaming because they think you're gonna kill them in their sleep or something."

Richter didn't seem to see anything particularly wrong with this. "And?"

"You want the kid to stick around, don't ya? I'll tell you something - I know about these things." Zelos wagged a finger sternly, assuming his 'Professor Zelos' role for a moment.

Richter seemed caught between knocking out his host with the nearest solid object or ignoring him completely and returning to Emil. "This is a waste of time."

"No, it's not! Okay, so maybe I'm not the best person to explain these things, but since darling Colette isn't here, I'm stuck with the job." After all, Colette was typically the one who ended up explaining these sorts of things, like that time she had asked Kratos if he was constantly in pain because he was always frowning. Zelos hadn't seen that one firsthand, of course, but he'd heard about it from Lloyd.

Richter, apparently having not absorbed anything Zelos had been telling him, unleashed his demonic glare once more. "... I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Friendship! All that good stuff! Geez, did you grow up in the wilderness? Okay, okay, just kidding! But the point is, you shouldn't push away people without even giving them a chance. I've done my fair share of that, in my own way, but it hasn't helped me at all. You gotta ask yourself... 'what's the worst that could happen if I trust people?'" Zelos desperately hoped this last line was gonna get some results, because it was one of his last cards to play before he was out of ideas.

But Richter's glare only harshened. "I think you've seen the results of that already."

Zelos was reminded of the nobleman, and cringed when he realized Richter was likening all of mankind to one slimeball. "Fine, fine. I guess you wanna see it that way. But, just to let you know, I'm one of the good guys. Emil knows it, but I don't think you're getting the picture yet. But you can count on the Great Zelos! Just place your faith in me."

Richter didn't even pause to think about it. "Hm."

"That's it? I work my butt off with a sappy speech like that, and you're not even gonna thank me?" Zelos complained, about ready to sink to the floor in metaphoric - or was that literal? - defeat.

"Whatever." Richter muttered, and left without so much as a by-your-leave. Zelos watched him disappear to the second floor, and heard the consequent opening of a door. Of course, he was going to talk to Emil. Predictable guy.

Zelos flopped into an armchair with a deep sigh. "Gawd, my kids better not turn out like him... I mean, not that I'd ever have kids..."

* * *

Emil had almost fallen asleep once more when he heard the door quietly open. Heavy eyelids that had begun to droop were roused from their weariness by the footsteps and the door's subsequent closing. More footsteps, slowly growing louder until they stopped beside the bed. A familiar weight pressed down on the edge of the bed, and Emil managed to wake himself enough to sit up and rub his eyes hurriedly before turning to see his friend sitting there.

"Were you asleep?" Richter's voice washed over him and brought him further back into the present as their eyes met, though Emil's blinking dulled the effect a little.

"Um, n-no, it's fine." Emil said quickly, and then consequently lost himself in Richter's eyes as his friend leaned in close, much too close for an ordinary conversation. Vivid, emerald green eyes... their beauty did not lie in their splendor but in the intensity of his gaze, the piercing, seemingly furious focus of those eyes.

"How are you feeling?" Richter inquired in low, almost confidential tones. His line of sight lowered slightly to the fading bruise at the side of the blonde's mouth, and his frown deepened.

"I'm f-fine! I feel much b-better now." Emil lied with surprising smoothness, feeling his mouth go dry when he realized he was not telling his friend the truth at all, not even a shadow of the truth. He could still feel phantom ropes around his wrists, a feeling that did not disappear as quickly as he'd hoped. And yet he wanted to insist on his recovery for the simple fact that he wanted to forget all of it, and the constant reminders, the little questions about his well-being only served as stimuli for unwanted flashbacks.

If Richter doubted the truth of his statement, he did not comment on it, sharp eyes glancing around the room as if searching for something. They eventually settled with resignation on the gilded couch on the other side of the spacious guest room. Emil followed the line of sight and felt the urge to ask, just out of curiosity, what Richter was thinking. But of course, such a silly question like that didn't deserve to be asked in the first place - Richter would say the same thing in less kind words.

"I'll be sleeping over there, is that all right with you?" Richter nodded vaguely towards the couch with an expression of all the weariness built-up these past few days.

"W-well I guess s-so, but aren't you staying at the inn?" Emil couldn't help but ask, out of sheer curiosity, much like his other frequently buried inquisitions. Except this one managed to surface.

"No," Richter retorted tonelessly, addressing the bed-post rather than Emil. "This happens to be my room for now."

Emil just about jumped out of the bed at this, but managed to contain himself and, flustered, exclaim, "Th-this is where you've been st-staying?"

"Yes." Richter confirmed a second time, giving Emil a look of mild amusement when the blonde seemed alternately embarrassed and stunned.

"Th-then... am I... t-taking your bed?" Emil stuttered, flushing from humiliation and the knowledge that he had been sleeping in the same bed his friend had been using. He should have noticed sooner! Now he was getting the ridiculous urge to turn over on his stomach to surreptitiously smell the pillows, to see if they actually smelled of Richter, which would have alerted him to the obvious fact sooner.

"It's fine." Richter waved off his concerns with a dismissive hand, a gesture that barely managed to escape the label of 'effeminate' due to its precise execution and emotionless source. "Like I said, I'm using the couch."

"B-but that's not right!" Emil protested, his morals coming into play at this point. "I could t-take the couch, since this was y-your room, after all."

"Of course not." Richter snapped, but his frustration seeped out of him as he observed Emil's guilty expression. "I want you to have the bed."

Emil caught the added implication, the hint that he, particularly, needed his rest due to the events of the night before. He studied the blankets at his knees, recalling his own part in the whole thing, and how none of it would have happened if he had just run while he had the chance. It wasn't fair that Richter had to sleep on the hard sofa - more useful as a decoration than a seat - because of something that had nothing to do with him. Besides, the bed was large enough for three people, so then...

"Y-you can, um, sleep here." Emil awkwardly patted the bed and avoided Richter's gaze with an unavoidable burning on his cheeks.

If Emil had been watching Richter's face, he would have seen the flicker of surprise, and then the pensive look that took over as the swordsman pondered the idea. "There's enough room. If you really don't mind."

The hint of a question at the end caused Emil to look up, straight into Richter's line of sight, and he froze up. "U-um, i-it's fine!"

Richter didn't look all that convinced, but he restrained a sigh and began taking off his boots. "All right." Emil pointedly did not look as Richter wasted no time in shedding his lavender tunic along with the boots, and most certainly buried his head in a pillow as he heard further rustling noises hinting at more discarded clothing. As long as he didn't look, it would be fine...

He couldn't help but look, however, as he heard Richter quietly walk to the other side of the bed. His eyes immediately went to the large expanse of skin - neck, shoulders, chest, stomach - and he thanked the stars that Richter was at least wearing the pants still. But he still found himself ensnared at the sight of such an impressive physique, a perfect balance of a lithe frame and a hint of musculature in all the right places, and... What was he thinking!?

"You're sure this is fine?" Richter asked once more, noticing Emil's gratuitous staring, though perhaps unaware of its target.

"O-of course!" Emil answered with a slight laugh, his voice a little higher than usual.

Richter settled in on his side of the bed as Emil turned around onto his back again, the position he normally slept in. There was a suspension of all sound for a few moments, perhaps even a minute, as both of them debated whether to strike up an impromptu conversation before turning off the lamp while they were in bed... together... But decided against it.

That is, until Richter at last summoned the courage to turn his dreams into reality - unwittingly - by asking, "How is your leg?"

"A-all right, I-I guess." Emil replied sincerely, not having bothered to look at it since that morning. "I suppose it w-won't go away... f-for a while." He wondered absently how long it would take for Richter to stop asking questions about it, about what had happened. Emil thought, with a dawning sense of weariness, that it would have been better if no one had talked of it in the first place.

"Mind if I take a look?" Richter looked over at him from the scant distance of two feet away, concern evident even in his normally unreadable face.

Admittedly, Emil wanted to refuse this time, if only because he didn't care to let those bad memories resurface again, but he had never been one to reject any of Richter's requests. "S-sure, that's fine."

The blonde shoved aside the covers helpfully, looking away as Richter moved closer. A gentle hand fell, as if by accident, onto his thigh, nudging his legs open. His face burned like a bonfire at the thought of what their position might look like to an outsider; Richter was staring intently at the mark on the blonde's inner thigh, and Emil was meanwhile doing his best to ignore the intrusion despite the blush forcefully conquering his face.

Richter's quiet voice startled him, in great part because of its close proximity to that area of his leg. "It's disgusting... although I suppose I did the same to you, didn't I?"

Emil recalled the kiss mark on his neck and immediately forgot the nobleman in favor of a much more pleasurable recollection, fueling his blush by several degrees. "N-no! Th-that's... it wasn't..."

"Yes, it was." Richter insisted, straightening up slightly to look Emil in the eyes, though he was still close enough to take up his previous position between Emil's legs. And oh, how _that _thought sounded when replayed in the blonde's mind, as if his face wasn't red enough as it was.

"B-but, with you, it was... Th-this one is not ugly to me!" Emil exclaimed, pressing a hand to the mark on his neck protectively, as if Richter could somehow take it away from him. "Those th-things he did... if it was y-you, it..."

And then Emil clapped a hand to his mouth, horrified at the words spilling from it like falling leaves at the coming of winter.

"If it was me...?" Richter questioned slowly, uncomprehending. The intensity of his eyes was frightening, and at the same time alluring in its unspoken threat.

"W-well..." Emil scrambled for a diversion. "I-I meant, if it was y-you, you wouldn't have... h-hurt me. Even if you had d-done those things."

"That doesn't make sense, Emil. This," Richter gestured to the horrific mark on the blonde's leg. "This is caused by pain. There is no other way to make a mark like that."

"B-but, I thought... if..." And Emil silenced himself again, though this time he was subtle enough not to use his hand to do so.

Richter seemed to be catching on to Emil's apparent chain of thought, because he gave a small sigh and suddenly revealed a hesitant smile, like rain in Triet. "The feeling would not change. Your body does not consider things like friendship in its pain calculation."

Emil had another destructive thought, much more dangerous than the last ones he had half-stifled, and stayed silent, afraid of what might happen if he spoke. He had wondered, before he stopped himself, whether Richter would agree to try it out - the same kind of mark-making - to satisfy his curiosity. And this time Emil knew, in the back of his mind, that he secretly wanted Richter to do it for other reasons, ones he would never have admitted just then.

"... But I suppose it would be well to set your mind at ease." Richter's abrupt suggestion sent Emil's train of thought off a steep cliff, causing it to plummet unfailingly to an inevitable doom.

Left with very few brain cells intact, Emil could only say, "Wh-what?"

"I'll try it, if you want. But I'll stop when you tell me to, because it _will _hurt." Ever stubborn, Richter was still insisting that his knowledge was infallible, and yet his willingness to prove this showed something else, for this sort of need to protect his pride did not normally send the redhead to these lengths.

Emil should have refused the bizarre offer if he had any sense of decency, but that part of him that was already picturing the 'experiment' egged him onwards, towards something that could have been his untimely doom. "I... I g-guess that's okay."

Richter leaned down, surveyed the available areas, and then turned his gaze back to Emil, causing the blonde to nearly jump. "... I could simply start with what is already there... but I do not want to cause you to... remember..."

"R-right, please, u-um, start... s-somewhere else." Emil, flustered, was unable to keep his eyes on Richter as he spoke, but this only made his heart beat faster because he couldn't see where the redhead was now, and his only warning of the chosen spot came when warm breath reached the skin of his left thigh. The one formerly untouched.

Richter spoke against his skin, seemingly unaware of the effect he was creating. "You must _tell_ me when it begins to hurt. Not like last time."

But Emil had no time to recall what had happened 'last time.'


	11. Chapter 11

Well... dang. I hadn't anticipated _that _much excitement. Thanks for the spazzy reviews, guys, it really makes me giggle!

Side note: I'm very bored during the day lately (I am unable to write this sort of thing during the day because I'm so used to writing at night) so I've been sketching Richter and Emil. I'm thinking of uploading some pictures to Deviantart, and I wondered if anyone had any requests...?

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**Ch.11**

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**Last Chapter:  
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Emil should have refused the bizarre offer if he had any sense of decency, but that part of him that was already picturing the 'experiment' egged him onwards, towards something that could have been his untimely doom. "I... I g-guess that's okay."

Richter leaned down, surveyed the available areas, and then turned his gaze back to Emil, causing the blonde to nearly jump. "... I could simply start with what is already there... but I do not want to cause you to... remember..."

"R-right, please, u-um, start... s-somewhere else." Emil, flustered, was unable to keep his eyes on Richter as he spoke, but this only made his heart beat faster because he couldn't see where the redhead was now, and his only warning of the chosen spot came when warm breath reached the skin of his left thigh. The one formerly untouched.

Richter spoke against his skin, seemingly unaware of the effect he was creating. "You must _tell_ me when it begins to hurt. Not like last time."

But Emil had no time to recall what had happened 'last time.'

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As it happened, 'last time' hit Emil full-force just as Richter's mouth met skin. The liquid fire spreading outward from his thigh, the warmth growing inside him, threatening to take over... it was much like 'last time,' with the notable change that 'last time' had been his neck, and now was something completely different, and all too close to a _very _significant area that had been sorely neglected recently.

Of course, these weren't Emil's exact thoughts, since he was in a state of mild chaos with Richter lightly sucking at the patch of skin on his inner thigh, inspiring a wave of dizziness and an accompanying sound about to break free from him like a bathtub running over with hot water. All he knew, from sheer instinct, was that the noises about to make themselves known had to be stopped, unless he wanted Richter to know then and there just how the blonde felt about him, about this.

Emil, remembering his still-healing lower lip, bit down on his hand desperately to stifle the embarrassing noises, barely disguised last time as a reaction to the so-called 'pain' of the ministrations. It was an awkward picture, had anyone been watching, but he was too far lost in the fiery sensation on his thigh to consider appearances, his other hand moving instinctively to clutch the sheets beneath him.

He couldn't tell exactly what Richter was doing any longer, since every slow, langorous lick of the newly-made mark, every soft bite of the hot mouth against already abused skin created ripples of pleasure that lanced through him almost like shivers of pain, and yet so much stronger. When he tried to concentrate - nearly forgetting to bite down on his hand as he did so - all he could distinguish was the startling feeling of Richter's mouth against his skin, and the wonderful burning in his stomach, on his face, everywhere.

The pain in his hand was nothing compared to the torturous pleasure threatening to break the hold he had on the sounds, trying to tempt him into letting those noises - only natural, a small voice in the back of his head told him - slip out into the heavy air, where they would fuel something deeper as they revealed how he was slipping, so easily, away from the safety of land and into a rapid-moving stream of fire.

He wasn't sure how much of this he could take before he gave in. And when that happened, the hand would fall, the lovely, helpless noises would spill from his lips, and - no, he couldn't! Richter didn't even know what this was doing to him! After all, if his friend had any idea how this would affect him, he never would have suggested it in the first place. Not unless he was trying his hand at seduction, and Emil couldn't picture that kind of action coming from Richter.

And then Emil _did _picture it, and a muffled noise of surprise and something else filtered through the barrier that was the hand in his mouth. He felt Richter freeze immediately at the awkward sound, and he knew it was the end. He couldn't disguise that sort of thing, not a second time. But just the same, he withdrew his hand - full of humiliating bite-marks by now - hastily, not wanting the redhead to see.

But Richter was too fast, and he was suddenly on top of Emil, through the action of seizing the hiding hand. It was almost too much for the blonde, with Richter looming over him like that, even if he was examining the mistreated hand with steadily-growing frustration. Especially if he was holding Emil's hand like that, gently despite the harsh expression that had to be directed at the injury.

"If it hurt that much, why didn't you stop me!?" Richter's fury, for once directed at Emil, somehow didn't alter the blush on his face.

"I-I... it didn't hurt!" Emil denied stubbornly, realizing a second too late that his last chance to escape the notice of his feelings depended on his answer. He should have given in and lied, said that he didn't want to offend Richter despite the pain, and so he had chosen instead to conceal how much it was hurting him, and wouldn't Richter forgive him for that? But no, Emil had instead told the truth defiantly, in a way that made it very clear he was not lying.

Richter heard the truth come out in that exclamation, and grudgingly inquired, "Then why were you doing that?"

Emil's heart skipped a beat, or five, before he managed to answer in the quietest voice he possessed, both hands now grasping the sheets beneath him as some sort of plea for protection. "B-because I didn't want you to... to hear."

"Hear?" Richter seemed to be in the process of recognition as he voiced the question, an 'aha' moment going on inside his mind, where Emil couldn't follow.

"The n-noises." Emil's blush intensified by several degrees as he admitted it at last.

By the slight widening of Richter's eyes, before he assumed his usual seriousness, it was clear he understood. "Ah. In that case... in _any_ case, you shouldn't hurt yourself like that."

Richter not-so-subtly moved off of him, more or less collapsing on his back on his side of the bed, and it was obvious he was doing his best to maintain a neutral expression despite the circumstances. Without a word, the redhead reached over awkwardly and turned off the lamp on the bedside table, shrouding the room in semi-darkness, and then settled back in on his half of the bed. Emil pulled the covers up to his waist, feeling suddenly very naked even in the faint moonlight filtering through the large windows, though what should have made him feel that way had long since ceased. The mark on his leg - Richter's mark - throbbed pleasantly, if such a thing was possible, and made his embarrassment all the more real.

It suddenly hit Emil that they had just... done that. The necking, the kissing, and now this. Until now they had been playing at being lovers, at the demand of the mission, but what had just happened was none of that. No one was watching them; their parts in the play had finished. So then, what was the excuse for this? The two of them had stumbled into it together, and Emil knew he, at least, had understood that it was just that - an excuse in itself. The very act of doing something like that was the excuse to do it.

_Ugh, my head hurts! _Emil couldn't hold back a sigh as his thoughts twisted themselves around confusingly. _I guess... I owe Richter an apology. After all, it was my fault that happened. I should have told him not to do it, but I wanted him to, and so - wait, I can't apologize! He'll know everything if I try to say I'm sorry, because he doesn't know it's my fault... _

"Emil." Richter's voice cut through the new darkness smoothly, accompanying the rustling sounds as he turned onto his side, and Emil immediately glanced over and saw Richter in degrees of grey and black, lit softly by a scant shroud of moonlight coming in through the window.

"Yes?" He asked cautiously, unable to read anything on Richter's shadowed face.

Richter moved a little closer, very slowly, as if by mere coincidence. "I want to try something."

Emil's breath left him without warning and he was left staring at Richter wide-eyed and mute, wondering if he had heard him right. He didn't know what to say to that. He had no idea exactly what Richter meant, but if the way his heartbeats sped up in anticipation was any indication, he was about to find out. As he let his eyes wander, slightly panicked, over the figure in front of him, he saw - there weren't even words to describe it - Richter's beautifully complex expression all wound up in curiosity and something stronger. Paired with the fact that he was shirtless and wrapped in moonlight, it was all Emil could do not to hide his reddening face in the nearest pillow.

"... Is that all right?" Richter persisted, very subtly shifting so that he was now even closer, making the action appear coincidental despite the hint in his words that the 'something' he wanted to do had everything to do with what they had recently been engaged in.

Words, Emil, words! He struggled with himself for a few moments, turning over various suitable responses in his mind, meanwhile blankly gazing in Richter's general direction in a sort of hazy, dream-like state. This wasn't real, he was just dreaming, and he would wake up after this, and... that's right.

He got a hold on himself and nodded, trying not to let his racing emotions show through in the gesture. Just a slow, even nod - good. This was a dream. A dream. One of those deliciously realistic dreams that came along every so often, and just maybe, if he was lucky, he might get something he longed for out of this. When he woke he could remember it fondly, secretly, unbeknownst to the world.

And Emil even went so far as to move closer to Richter, just a little. They were close enough now, for whatever the redhead had in mind. But more importantly, Emil couldn't seem to look his friend in the eye. In fact, he couldn't even look in his general direction due to the smooth, caramel skin that was everywhere above the sheets at their waists. He wanted to close his eyes just to get away from it all, trapped in like this, but he so desperately wanted to know what Richter was doing that he ended up compromising and looking down at an unremarkable place on the sheets.

Another subtle shift, and their bodies were nearly close enough to touch, enough to feel the heat radiating between them as Emil had to fight to not close his eyes. A hand on his face startled him, tilting his face upwards until he couldn't stop his line of sight from drifting unavoidably to Richter. Deep green eyes filled with intensity stared back, tinged with a foreign kind of thirst that he was holding back extraordinarily well.

"R-Richter...?" He couldn't ask the question echoing through all the halls of his mind, the question that set him on fire with all the scenes that followed in his imagination. _What are you doing?_

From the brief surprise that flickered through Richter's eyes, he knew the other half of the question, and was forced to ask himself the same thing as he held Emil's face there firmly. There was a moment of indecision, as if either of them could back out from what had already begun.

And then Richter's gaze upon him grew even more intense, and his low, velvet voice answered the unspoken question. "This."

Emil watched, frozen, his heart's rapid beats making up for his own stillness, as Richter leaned in slowly enough to watch the unexplainable look on his face. Emil's eyes closed of their own accord just as soft lips met his. Richter was... kissing him. Those lips caressed his lightly at first, and his breath caught when Richter's other hand came to rest on his waist, as if it was only natural, as if this was right.

That kiss ended too soon, and Richter pulled back, still unbearably close, to examine Emil's expression. Emil opened his eyes with a sort of stunned realization of what they were doing, and yet his only response was to place his hands where they had been in rehearsal - clutching the front of Richter's tunic. Only there was no tunic, and so his hands came to rest awkwardly against bare skin, skin that was almost provoking him to run his fingers across it, but he held back at the startled expression Richter could not hold back.

It must have been a signal of some kind, for Richter took Emil's face in both hands and brought their mouths together with a force that squeezed a gasp from the blonde at the contact. The movement the gasp inspired seemed to drive the kiss deeper as Richter's warm lips slid over his and then pressed, hard, until Emil let his own mouth fall open to the startlingly hot tongue that invaded his mouth without warning. It stroked his own tongue slowly, as if tasting him, and he felt the heat in his stomach intensify ridiculously along with the redness on his face.

He made some sort of strangled, desperate noise into the kiss as they continued, Richter's tongue teasing his until he found himself pushing back, crushing their lips together. Their bodies seemed to meld together with the heat, disstressing hotness that made him forget everything as his back arched and he made another moan that Richter's mouth mostly silenced.

He was growing dizzy, but he didn't notice it until they parted at last, panting, the heat still there and all the more obvious with their bodies pressed together like this. Emil focused on air, and breathing, but he couldn't seem to remember why it was that he had been so determined to watch his footing, so scared of something happening... what had it been? He couldn't remember.

Just when he had recovered his breath, Emil noticed Richter taking hold of his hands, and watched as the redhead placed them on his shoulders. Emil cooperated without a word, letting his hands rest there on Richter's shoulders, noting the way he could grip there, even with his fingernails digging into the smooth skin of his friend's back if he had to. If he... had to?

Their gazes connected again, Richter's fiery intensity somehow numbing Emil but not halting the rapid pace of his heartbeats. Richter seemed to be debating something with himself for a moment, and then placed his hands on Emil's waist. Another moment went by, and the hands went to his shoulders, more firmly than was strictly necessary.

Richter deftly pinned Emil down onto the bed, the blonde's back now pressed into the bed, and the strong grip on his shoulders became clear just as they changed altogether, and two palms pressed into the mattress on either side of his head. This position... to think he had once called it 'scary'... Now it only made his heart beat faster, if that was still possible, and he was abruptly thankful for his own hands on Richter's back, giving him support somehow. The loss was that their bodies were no longer pressed together like they had been, but Emil wasn't about to complain.

The next moment, Richter was kissing him hard, driving him into the bed farther as the world became limited to their lips moving together, and Emil gripped Richter's shoulders harder, wanting to pull him down until their bodies pressed together like they had before. Richter distracted him by withdrawing for a moment and then taking Emil's lower lip between his two, sucking on it and watching the blonde writhe underneath him before taking advantage of the gasp he had made and sliding his tongue in with teasing slowness.

Emil made another little noise as Richter's tongue threatened to take over his mouth, exploring it to every corner and still somehow managing to langorously run against his own tongue every so often, causing more surprised sounds. When they parted briefly, a strand of saliva broke between them and fell upon Emil's chin, something he hardly noticed as Richter leaned in close and suddenly diverged from his chosen path to the blonde's lips.

Feeling Richter close in on his neck gave Emil's heart a few moments of rest when he stopped breathing. The same lips that had been kissing him now descended on the juncture between shoulder and neck. Richter bit down lightly, earning a loud gasp that Emil hadn't even bothered to stifle, and then began to suck at the area with a rhythm matching the pulsing heat somewhere in his stomach.

"Mmmm... R... Richter..." Emil murmured desperately, oblivious to everything except the torturous pleasure that was becoming an ache deep inside him.

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**Deleted Scenes  
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"Emil." Richter's voice cut through the new darkness smoothly, and Emil immediately glanced over and saw Richter in degrees of grey and black, lit softly by a scant shroud of moonlight coming through the window.

"Yes?" He asked cautiously, thinking, hell, it's the eleventh chapter, this can't be good.


	12. Chapter 12

Honestly, I didn't think I'd have the time to keep updating this - mainly since I started college - but the fact that I had over twenty-five reviews for chapter eleven alone convinced me that you guys deserved a continuation. Seriously, I'm impressed. So, here goes! I wrote this whole thing tonight for ya. Cheers!

**Notes: **I had to go back and reread my own fanfic, hehe.

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**Ch.12**

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The bed began to shake. For a moment, Emil wondered if this had something to do with the almost violent torrent of kisses they were exchanging, but a second tremor stopped both of them mid-kiss and they were forced to pull back awkwardly. Though excited heartbeats had nearly deafened him, Emil could still hear the noises that were occurring someplace outside the room. Crashes, thuds, and soon, the clangs of swordplay reached them.

Richter was off of Emil and out of the bed in an instant, twin weapons in hand as soon as he reached the scabbards on the nearby table. Emil leaped out of bed to follow but was stopped when Richter's stern gaze fell on him.

"Hide." The cold command almost hurt him despite the familiar voices from downstairs assuring him of the necessity of Richter's advice. Sheena's scream was muffled by something, followed by a wordless shout that must have been Zelos.

Emil edged towards the closet door, horror-stricken and confused at the same time, knowing Zelos and Sheena weren't having a friendly duel at this time of night. And there were too many different sounds for it to have been just the two of them. Someone else was there, or several people, their purposes morbidly varied in Emil's mind. He numbly watched Richter crack the door open silently, carefully because both hands carried weapons that could have knocked against the door-frame and alerted the intruders to their presence.

Much more clearly now, a gruff shout rang out in a voice they could not identify. "That's right! You'll join your king soon enough. And I think you'll like the location... the blood-stains won't stand out!"

Richter stood there woodenly for a moment, hesitated, and then it was too late as they heard the thud and then the ensuing silence. No Zelos, no Sheena... they had either gone quiet or had been forcibly quieted. Footsteps echoed downstairs, and some mutters that sounded ominous to their tension-filled ears, already full of panicked heartbeats.

Steps on the stairs drove Richter suddenly into action, and he pushed Emil into the closet and followed him, shutting the door tightly and placing himself squarely in front of Emil, facing the door with weapons drawn. Emil didn't dare ask why Richter wasn't charging into battle like he had expected; the air in the closet was much too tense for questions, for any sound that wasn't accidental.

They heard the door to the room burst open a few seconds later. Heavy footsteps tramped around outside their little haven, and sounds of a violent and clumsy search reached them. Emil didn't breathe, hoping desperately they wouldn't be found. His hands were trembling, and he ached to reach out and hold onto something - Richter - in the gloomy darkness made even more terrifying with the sounds from outside. But Richter was a statue, standing prepared to strike at the first sign of an opening door.

But the hurried footsteps and mutterings began to fade. There was a sound that might have been the door to the adjacent room, more rushed searching, and then the noises turned into steps descending the staircase. The heaviness indicated the loads they must have been carrying, and Emil, despite the relief at their apparent departure, was hit just as suddenly with the empty feeling of recognition. Zelos and Sheena were gone.

The door to the mansion shut audibly just as Richter cautiously opened the closet door, leaving the two of them terrifyingly alone with a broken plan and sobering facts. Richter tensed, and then abruptly set his weapons on the bed and began to dress fully, tunic and coat donned within a few moments. He hastily belted on his scabbards and sheathed his weapons in a flash, and then halted for a moment, staring at Emil as if he had forgotten the boy was still there.

"Wh-what... happened?" He wondered aloud, voice tremulous with the new-found terror.

Richter went over to him, fixed him with a cool gaze, and gave him a second command. "They must have been found out."

"B-but... the int-t-terrogations!" Emil insisted desperately, though he sensed with a falling sensation that it had never occurred, at best.

"Failed." Richter muttered, as if to himself alone. "They're keeping them in the Crimson Room at the palace..."

"How did you...?" Emil stopped, recalling the words of the unknown intruder, words of blood-stains and red surroundings burning into his mind. "That's right... a-and the king! He's there, too!"

"Yes. But not for much longer." The red-haired man seemed at a loss for action momentarily, shifting uneasily on his feet as if he wished for some inspiration to come out of the open air.

Emil couldn't stop himself from drifting closer to Richter, hoping for some kind of comfort to this senseless conflict. But his friend remained unaware of him, eyes far away, concentrating. So Emil tried to still the unhappy lump in his throat himself, pretending he wasn't hovering next to the red-haired man in search of a rock to hold onto.

A change in Richter's demeanor signaled the moment the plan materialized. Immediately, Richter's expression hardened as stone, and his hand twitched towards his scabbard for a moment before he realized it. Emil waited impatiently for the explanation, helplessly anticipating the second command to be as same as the first: hide.

But Richter's words were far from expected as he fixed his gaze on Emil and said quietly, "Your maid uniform... go put it on while I contact Lloyd."

And then the warrior left the room, and Emil was left to wonder just what all that meant. And then he saw that he was still wearing the nightgown, and at least some things made sense. Just a little.

* * *

Lloyd yawned, and Richter had to resist the urge to snap at him for it, for the effect would have been terrifying even over the screen of the magitechnologic object placed before him. The Lloyd on the screen then seemed to notice the identity and seriousness of his caller, and suddenly straightened and frowned, an out-of-place expression on a normally cheerful man.

"What is it, Richter?"

"Do you know about the plan?"

"You mean Sheena's... wait, is something wrong?"

"They've been captured."

"What!? But that's-"

"Zelos and Sheena."

"How? Those two have faced-"

"They were unprepared."

"... What are we going to do?"

"They're being held in the Crimson Room with the king. I want you to get as many allies as you can and infiltrate the castle from the king's bedroom windows. Emil and I will occupy the nobles to buy you space."

* * *

Emil was shaking slightly as he approached the familiar oaken doors of the Meltokio palace, frighteningly not comforted by Richter at his side, dressed in nobleman's attire just as 'Amelia' had resurfaced. Richter, who had told him nothing of the plan so far. Richter, who apparently was going to just walk in a make up a distraction on the spot to allow Lloyd's group the time to infiltrate the castle from the upper story. It made him even more nervous that he didn't have any script to follow.

Just as they made it up the steps to the doors, Richter gave him some hint of the plan.

"Just follow my lead and remember the cover story."

They entered the ballroom to stares and the cessation of all speech for a few seconds as all turned to look at the new arrivals, infamous ones that they were. And then there were the whispers, which grew until there was a steady undercurrent of muttering while they walked up to greet Princess Hilda, as was the custom. Emil noticed out of the corners of his eyes that more nobles were trickling into the ballroom, presumably having seen or heard, already, from those at the balconies who had spotted the pair's entrance. They had the full attention of the court, which was precisely what they needed.

Richter addressed Princess Hilda, although it was clear by the volume of his voice that what he said was meant for the entire room. "I am here to give the full explanation of the Lord Renaldo affair."

The princess stared at him, wide-eyed, before her gaze shifted to 'Amelia'. "You are not required to publicly announce this matter, Lord Abend."

"I would like to clear her name, and mine." Richter persisted believably, eager gaze now panning around the room so that the various nobles stilled at his eyes on them. "Amelia was forced into... something she did not desire." The court responded with darting eyes and renewed interest in such a scandal.

Richter continued with visible restraint, not artificial this time since he possessed the true fury behind the scenes. "I managed to stop... Lord Renaldo... before any permanent damage was done to her, but it was inexcusable. It was... _pathetic._" At the voicing of such an acidic phrasing, the court was filled with smatterings of gasps and tittering, and it was obvious he had them following his story with all their attention.

And then the predictable protest came into place, a harsh questioning of the truth by an older noblewoman who looked down her nose at the both of them. "How can we trust you? You've been seen taking her into closets just the same as he, with no sign of modesty!"

It seemed Richter was at a loss for words, and Emil panicked and did the only thing he could think of. He told the truth, having nothing else to use. "The t-truth is... the scenes played out between us were made to seem that w-way, but..."

Just as he was about to let everything out, Richter gently interceded, quieting him with what appeared to be a firm but caring nod.

And then, in the ensuing silence, Richter seemed to gather his courage, and proclaimed to the entire court, "We... are in love."

Gasps. A few women fainted into the arms of their nearby partners and friends. Princess Hilda looked positively scandalized, the blush gracing her cheeks overpowering even the artificial pink of her rouge. Many nobles had mouths that refused to close, the thought of a nobleman seriously courting a servant girl being something they had always scorned.

Richter continued, becoming slowly more confident as he went on despite the judgment of those surrounding him. "We had to hide our relationship... because I knew my parents would disapprove. But it's time to set aside petty thoughts like that. After something like this happens... things change."

The court began to whisper and murmur again like falling leaves, some no doubt questioning Richter's logic while others seemed swayed by the romantic ideals showcased in this touching story of unfortunate events that lead to dramatic recognition. Richter's performance was incredibly convincing, and even Emil wasn't entirely sure how much his friend was creating and how much he truly meant.

"And that is why I must marry Amelia. I want to protect her, and to have that right I need to ask for her hand, though it will displease my parents, who only think of noble matches."

There was complete silence at Richter's proclamation. The stares became almost unbearable, but then Richter turned to 'Amelia' and took his hands gently, a soft smile gracing his visage, and everything was all right. Was he really... serious?

"Will you... marry me?"

Richter looked deep into his eyes, such sincerity clear on his face that Emil only had time to say a hurried and breathy 'yes' before his vision began to fade and he fainted into his 'lover's' arms.

* * *

By the time Emil came to, it was all over. In the short span of time he was unconscious, many things happened very quickly. Just as Richter had caught him, Lloyd and his band of heroes burst into the room from the hallway, Sheena, Zelos, and the King of Tethe'alla in tow, not much the worse for wear. The papal knights came next, escorting three nobles, two assistants, and one woman who answered to Triana, who was in the middle of hysterics. This caught the attention of the court, naturally. In fact, Richter ended up taking Emil up to the Library simply to get him away from all the noise, in case he had another moment of effeminate dizziness.

As soon as they were in the Library and the door had shut, Richter set him down in a chair and stood there, arms crossed, only a small, barely detectable hint of relief crossing his face before it returned to its usual stoniness. Emil honestly missed the smile from earlier, even if it had partially caused his fainting spell.

And then he recalled just what had been the direct cause of his unconsciousness.

"M... marriage...?" Emil said faintly, dizzy with the thought. It was a joyous, floating feeling, like walking on clouds. The only thing marring it was his companion's emotionless visage, but even that couldn't bring him back down to the ground.

"Don't be ridiculous, Emil. It was an act just like the others." Richter said brusquely, adding a sigh that might have been pitying.

"The... o-others?" And Emil could barely speak, his throat seemed to be stopping up and he struggled with the stinging sensation in his eyes. "I... I-I thought..." He had seemed so sincere, so... oh, how could he have been so stupid!? Of course Richter didn't really love him, nevermind marry him! This... this...

Richter made a motion to reply, but Emil couldn't stay any longer. He bolted, out of the Library and through the halls and down stairs and through the ballroom, past all the staring nobles. At last he found himself pushing open the large, oaken doors of the palace and just running in reckless abandon.


	13. Chapter 13

Booyah! I rule, I'm soooo cool.

Also, I love Zelos. Can you tell?

**Notes: **If you check the note on one of the earlier chapters, you'll see that I had this part written a while ago - something I don't ever do. I normally write sequentially, but this ending somehow came to me out of the blue, and it just begged to be written.

* * *

**Ch.13**

**

* * *

**

Richter stood there as if frozen in place in front of the oaken doors of the palace, watching, almost helplessly, as Emil came to a sudden stop halfway down the steps, turned abruptly, and exclaimed,

"I love you!"

Tears rolled down the maid's cheeks, overwhelming even the deep crimson blush beneath them. And then, taking the warrior's blankness as the only answer he deserved, Emil spun on his heel and dashed off, across the tiled courtyard and down the stone steps at a breakneck pace.

He didn't even care where he was going. Dodging nobles and children, decorative bushes and the side railing of the stairs, he set off towards the main gates of Meltokio with only a handful of thoughts left intact. He had to get away. He had just said the stupidest thing he could have possibly said, ever, to the person who meant the most to him. It was over, now.

As he ran, he barely noticed the tears streaming down his face, nor the teardrops that sparkled as they flew off and behind him as he sprinted. Not even the blinding sunlight hitting his eyes could stop him as he left the city, darting between the people entering Meltokio and leaving the dirt road for solace elsewhere.

He ran so far, he couldn't feel his feet any longer. His lungs were on fire as he at last set his sights on a lone tree in the middle of nowhere, these lonely grassy plains that were lucky to have a single tree. He approached it and finally halted, collapsing at the foot of the towering tree with something that didn't even resemble relief. It was more like despair.

His body, at least, didn't let him suffer the overwhelming emotions alone. No, his feet began to ache, the stitches in his sides made themselves painfully known, and his breathing was fast and shallow, as if he couldn't get enough air into his lungs fast enough. His entire being hurt, not just with the distance he'd run without realizing, but from the zero-emotion look that had been on Richter's face when he had said those three words. It felt like a hammer had crashed into his chest, leaving a bruise that throbbed even after the event itself had passed.

He felt completely and utterly alone. If he had been thinking clearly, he might have considered Sheena, Zelos, Lloyd, and everyone else who called themselves his friends. But as it was, Richter's visage was the only one that appeared to him, and his mind couldn't dwell on the possibility of any other person helping him out of this. Richter was most certainly disgusted with him right now, and that meant... he was worthless. Worthless for having admitted that forbidden, repulsive emotion that he had held for longer than he'd even known.

It was then, curled up on the grass, tears still lazily leaking from his eyes, that he heard the fast footfalls approaching. He didn't even want to sit up, but he also didn't want whoever it was to see him like this, even if he had just lost everything that was important to him. So Emil tried to wipe his tears on the back of his hands, staining those pristine satin gloves further.

"Emil!"

That moment was so perfect it froze itself in his mind even as it was still happening. Richter was running towards him, eyes alight with something like fear, concern, and Emil didn't have time to wonder what was going on before he was dragged up from the ground to face his friend, who seized him in an embrace so tightly it hurt, crushing him but he didn't mind at all. He was released, short on breath still, to look up into a panting Richter's eyes, so full of emotion it was as if they were trying to make up for all the years they'd spent monotonously.

"Emil..." Such a crashing wave of emotion in his voice that it didn't seem he was able to say anything else, but it didn't matter. That one word told all.

And Richter's hands took Emil's, and they were shaking, not in the way they would from the way he had just chased him all the way there, but something else, something less easily determined. Emil felt the tears stain his face even then, as though his body was yet unable to accept the sudden change, and went on with its morose procession regardless.

Standing there so close, Richter shaking, Emil still crying despite himself, it should have been a painful moment, full of regrets and wistful wishes for a happier circumstance.

But everything was perfect as Richter leaned down and crushed his mouth to Emil's, tasting the saltiness of stray tears, feeling the wetness against his own face as they kissed desperately in the middle of nowhere.

"I love you." And Emil's heart felt like it had stopped beating as he felt his eyes overflow with tears once more when he saw the indescribable look on Richter's face.


End file.
